Apparently, the Bacoo is a spirit in Guyana and Suriname who brings good luck if you treat it well, and bad luck if you treat it badly. Which is exactly how I’d be if I were supernatural.
Misfortune comes with parents – architects
of what went wrong, and they’re the ones to blame:
the angry spirit, winds with ill effects,
a trickster deity, a twisted game.
It’s not my fault! you hear the injured cry,
accusing callous skies with wounded words;
no need to seek at home the reason why –
responsibility is for the birds.
So funny, then, how Fortune’s oft an orphan –
I did the thing! I’m great! Oh glory me!
But this poor poet thinks it’s always more fun
to credit where it’s due and bend a knee.
So humble thanks to all my kith and kin –
to all of us the glory of the win.