n. The kind of fortune that never misses.
—Ambrose Bierce
Lightning-strike bad luck, they all said—
the emergency room doctor
specialists, OBGYN.
Knife-tip of hope, their Try again.
Six weeks in, I’m peeing on sticks.
Lightning-strike bad luck, they all said.
Helicopter thought, it spins, haunts—
mantra of that first trimester.
New Year’s Eve, week fifteen, I’m pure
as a newborn’s fingerprints. It was
Lightning-strike bad luck, they all said
but the pulley of blood begins
again. My womb, dented bin, where
dusky dreams of family turn
into second kerosened dead.
Bad luck. Lightning strike. They all said.
Jill Michelle is the author of Underwater (Riot in Your Throat, 2025) and Shuffle Play (Bottlecap, 2024) and winner of the 2023 NORward Prize for Poetry. Her newest work is forthcoming in The Florida Review, Free State Review, MQR: Mixtape, Pangyrus Lit Mag and Rogue Agent. She teaches at Valencia College in Orlando, Florida. Find more at byjillmichelle.com.