April’s Fool

First of April, a day of jest
E-mail bodkins cruel, into my chest
We regret sir, you’ve failed the test
No luck there, back into the mess

Broken my flow, no more writing
This day needs to become of healing
Soul cracked but still willing
Who else is right now hiring?

Third month out of employ
Bank account close to void
The despair swells into a noise
Sought out a sympathetic voice.

A temple visit for a quick prayer
Do these gods lend their ears
To “only during trouble” worshipers?
More so will they aid a strange foreigner?

Wishes transmitted, Pascal’s wager
Heart becalmed, but still wavers
Drew a fortune, slip of paper
“Excellent Luck”, claims gods’ favor.

At this junction, a queer trilemma
Accept this as a sign, am I delivered?
Or is it a prank, and am I buggered?
Or perhaps foolish, as a fair-weather believer?