14: In my judgment
what I know is in your eyes. True for now.
Good luck can never bite. Except not at night. Newer urgencies
where prognosticators get rained on, pointing to each other
so exposed they feign constant ignorance. True for a night.

And yet bad luck when a lightning rod derives its light / very lightly
a chemical wind thrives for a second and returns to stars —
doomed as cognitive coloration, brief astronomy, all matter.