The Milk Lottery With a tear in his beer when he had any That by then had been one too many Boo-hoo but who was that guy who would always Cry in the breadline on Saturdays But Boo-hoofallo Bill as I called him where I recall all of us standing there Waiting for donated groceries just past Their prime just in time to break the fast Trying not to look too ghastly where we stood Out in a very good neighborhood That refused us then but used to be our own Each of us altogether alone Stood shaken together the misunderstood Meekly for our weekly day-old bread We were mad and sad but not bad after all Each of us having had a bad fall Shuffling forward inch by inch expectantly Next to me Bill was crying instead Of trying to win in the milk lottery I won three times since I understood An absurd sense of humor is essential When everything is existential So I told him this and he listened to me Eyes glistening existentially Wish it were beer though instead of milk he said But when he won unexpectedly Boo-hoofallo Bill took his milk and went on Drying his eyes he smiled and was gone Steven Curtis Lance