There’s a 7% chance I’ll be run over by an airplane taxiing to its gate; 7% I’ll be disemboweled by American dingoes;7% I’ll have a line of designer socks named in my honor; 7% this statistic could rise to 14%,but 7% it could be halved by a lack of interest.
There’s a 7% chance the best thing I’ll write has already been written; 7% I’ve got an undiscovered talent I’m aware of;7% I’ve got an incurable disease I wouldn’t want to cure; & 7% someone’s looking over my shoulder& hoping I’ll notice, if only to pretend he/she’s not looking.
There’s a 7% chance the next phone-call will bring us tragic news; 7% we’ll do something about Global Warmingbefore it’s almost too late & then still decide not to do anything; 7% we might bring about a lasting peace,& 7% it’ll only last a few weeks before the bloodshed’s renewed.
Fortunately, there’s a 7% chance these statistics are way off & 7% no figures will back these up;7% this is really about the probability our fetus has an abnormality, & 7% that this 7% may refer to something else,something that will assuredly & continually cause our hearts to ache. [End Page 45]
Jonathan Greenhause, a four-time nominee for the Pushcart Prize, won the 2015 Editor’s Choice Poetry Award from Kind of a Hurricane Press, the second-prize winner in the 2016 Gemini Magazine Poetry Open, a finalist for this year’s Green Mountains Review Book Prize, a finalist for Soundings East’s 2016 Claire Keyes Award in Poetry, and a finalist for the 2016 Iowa Review Poetry Award. His poems have recently appeared or are forthcoming in Artful Dodge, FOLIO, Mantis, RHINO, South-word Journal, and Stand, among others.