Skipped happy hour after work on Friday,
played some poker instead.
Was drinkning aged whiskey on the rocks and
counting cards inside my head.

game got dull so we drove to atlantic city
where gamblers are professionals
unlike vegas, where most are tourists.

a weekend though is a weekend and
the philadelphia and new york crowds
influx the regulars' table.

usually i'll eat dinner when i arrive
sleep until 2 and then
work the graveyard shift with the junkies and the drunks.

playing only the top 13 hands on a
low limit table
where the working man is donating his paycheck.

play some craps and pick up some ladies
while i await a good seat
at a cash game with whales.

but, tonight i came to
on the 'walt whitman bridge'
and was one of those drunk tourists who got taken.

i was winning big but we were
drinking bigger.
handing bartenders 5 dollar tips

and not knowing how much money my chips were worth.
playing like the money i had wasnt
borrowed and i was breaking my parole regulations.

having conversations with myself
while staring at my own eyes in the mirror
of the casino bathroom.

recognizing old 'friends' and
not realizing they were laughing at
(not with).

Backstage at a RAQ show
bustin freestyles and
fatty lines; freshy (heady) nuggs.

beeper buzzes my seat is ready with the big boys,
jack and coke
two aces and three callers *one raiser*

losing with three of a kind to flush on the river.
having to use secret stash for parkng
and no money for tolls.

crashing at the ex's condo
and waking up with regret
and empty pockets.

fine Italian food in Tony's
restaurant while negotiating
a payment plan.

aged wine and stromboli
playing numbers betting on horses
just because of who there jockey is.

no use in workin'
probability and numbers
have got me livin in sin.

12/09/2007

Author's Note: an adventure in every hand.

Posted on 12/09/2007
Copyright © 2024 Frank Lee