As today is the 13th, the subject of today’s exercise is the result of thinking about superstition around the number 13. Apparently it’s so prevalent that a significant number of tall buildings in the USA don’t bother to fit out their thirteenth floors, because they have so much trouble finding tenants. (Can’t remember where I heard this, but I think it was the result of data collected by an elevator manufacturer, or someone of that ilk. Not a listicle, or anything like that.)
Anyway … your task today is to write a poem about a superstition. Maybe your own, maybe one attributed to someone else (sportsmen tend to have a lot of superstitions). Play with it, subvert it, take it seriously, explain it … go for it.
And may no black cats sit on your keyboard.
A Dark Feathered Art 