luck

My grandfather said
that you make your own luck.
He made his with shotguns
and post offices.
The cops made theirs
with informers and patience.

My grandfather said
that one day your luck
will run out.
His luck ran out and took
the last seat in the getaway car,
leaving him to face the music
counted out in 4-4 by police batons.

N.B. My actual grandfather wasn't a bank robber but he did play a mean game of Scrabble.