Wednesday, October 10, 2012


Statistically speaking,
the odds are against us.
We might as well be posing for a picture,
arm-in-arm, leaning back on the flimsy
fence that guards the gaping mouth of
the Grand Canyon shouting “Hey look at us!”

Statistically speaking,
it’s more likely that
one of us is a Yankee fan.
We might as well be painting
the walls of our house with gasoline
while systematically striking each match
in a box of one thousand
out of pure boredom.

Statistically speaking,
we have a better chance of
getting away with murder.
We might as well just close our eyes,
lace together our hungry limbs
and  tango right off the edge
of the flat, flat world.

About Jessica Dawson:
Jessica Dawson is a modern-day Wendy. She lives in California with Peter Pan, a baby bear and a future Supreme Court justice. She’s the author of one book of poetry, Fossil Fuels (Verve Bath Press), and has had poems published in Thunder Sandwich, The Hold, Passenger May, killpoet, Words Dance, Remark., Lit Vision, and Slurve Magazine. She reads the dictionary for fun, speaks only in degrees of sarcasm and enjoys owning her eight-year old in Scrabble.

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