“Poker”
By Sammy
Pocket..
of lint. Deep pressed.
Cards dealt on leaflets
Carve your own prints. Deep breath.
Aged lemon in the fridge; squeeze it…
Squeeze the shit out of it
Momma always said “squeeze hard enough
and you'll always get half a cup”
Community
To my left, a broad caricature.
Contour of a con torn between dusk and dawn
Shades donned; midnight's malevolence
Hiding disposition. Foul breath. Oddest integer
The type to view predicaments
With optimistic interspersed logic. This, I'm sure
No actions trodd without calculation
This, I'm sure
To my right,
A slim disposition. Married to chance
Wedded to Wednesday; buried in romance
“It’ll happen someday”.
Tattered page of Johanna Lindsey; Engaged in slow dance..
Loooonnnng drawn pronunciation so the feelings may last
He'd call just to see…
To prolong the thrill of the seek. No cards.
Across from me,
The altruistic. kind hearted
Not realizing life can be a sick bitch
Thinly sliced piece of the pie
Daughter visits…every 5th of July
Half eaten apple of his eye
To the victor goes the spoiled
The purpose; The price.
He plays to reinforce a single worth in his life
These days, the struggle is finding where the worth of one lies
Turn,
The edge of 25. Columbus seeking spice.
On the table, a new world. new cards. Neat surprise.
Welfare contingent on the other side
holding on a 9 to 5
A soundest metaphor, huh? Prefers jazz. The quirk, the sly…
dips, observing the slight twitch
A beat junkie traversing sound language
River
Every placid spring hides a secret
Poker face devised to beat the…
odds. Deceived to even the playing fields
A stream of cods; fishing at timely seasons
Face revealed
Rush of August brushing the canvas
CAUGHT! Red face! Red handed..
Flushed. The Altruistic glanced left; smiling a tell tale.
Mr Romance fell to habits. An impetuous landscape.
Infatuated with the plush palettes of smiling half-faces
The Con, sat, playing with his stacks. Trading red for blacks.
Shuffling his piles all the while positioning traps. Son of a bitch could act.
There’s plenty of fish. He laughs.
Me? I sat back observing the view…
The ticks. The nuances. The learnings accrued.
We’re all dealt something. now... which person are you?