If your palm itches, choose sixes.
If your wrist itches, it’s not because
you’re missed.
Empty your head for clarity,
then abandon all desire for clarity.
To ward off fever, twist your mustache.
A mustache is bad luck enough.
Whistle in the kitchen
and marry a man who beats you.
Don’t whistle
and you won’t know love at all.
To achieve your dearest wish
cross your fingers,
all your fingers;
keep them crossed
until they fall off.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
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3 comments:
Now I'm a little scared of Aunt Bobbie.
Great poem.
:)
we say :
if it itches in your right palm, money is coming your way!
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