sometimes every week
with the first ticket she ever bought. she won the lottery. and so. her name was added to a list.
of the lucky people. those who lived in the town. each name. handwritten on a large board
displayed in the public square. next to this. another board. naming the unlucky people.
no reason was ever given why a name appeared. on either board. most times it was obvious.
everyone knew everyone else. but other times. it was a mystery.
the council had appointed a man. whose job. was to maintain both boards.
at the end of every week. with paint. brushes. a stepladder. and names. he set to work.
and people would gather to see if. and where. their name appeared. some names drew applause.
others derision.
the difficult part of the job. was keeping track of those names that swapped.
sometimes. each week. from one board to another. when this happened. he would first
paint over the name. then. and only then. adding it to the other board. this. to prevent confusion.
but sometimes. a name appeared on both boards. at the same time. at first. this was thought
to be a mistake. but gradually was understood. some people’s lives were like this.
and there were names. lucky. or unlucky enough. never to be changed.
Daniel Lehan has lived in New York, Florence, Finland, and Quebec, and now lives in Dungeness, on the south coast of England, facing France. He delivers collage workshops to a wide range of participants including those in prison. His work, “Book Pages Destroyed By Typewriter,” is included in The New Concrete, Visual Poetry in the 21st Century, published by Hayward Publishing, 2015.
See more of Daniel's work in 12.2 and 12.1 and 12.1 and 12.1 and 11.4 and 11.4 and 11.4 and 11.4 and 11.4 and 11.4 and 11.4 and 11.3 and 10.4 and 10.4 and 10.4 and 2.1