- (karma-roll of the tongue in a street-flash smile)

What is it that warms the ribs
a hidden happiness tucked in crevasses of light?

It’s like the perfect swat of a fly
a knuckle that finally pops
a slump shrugged off and running out the door madly

It’s like people listening without interrupting with advice
the weatherman wrong on a clear day
a wet dream come true

It’s like buses and trains lining up at your toes
a clerk sliding over a six-pack after 2 a.m.
old friends buying when you’re broke busing into town

It’s like warm rain and cool wind
the fish biting and the worm surviving
the clock running slow when you’re late

What is the key or cord to unlock luck?
Surfing karma on waves of heartbeats, sighs, and yawns trapped in space-time
hidden happiness
condensed light

[For A Good Time
Contact Poet:
Wes Heine
Infinigon3@hotmail.com]