Had I been
a gambling man,
eschewing the "shoe"
of chemin de fer ...
perpetually perched upon that throne
... effete kingdom of the dice.
II
I am that gambling man ...
taking free access to many
a natural habitat, lure
of the open road,
contents under a bottle cap,
the riverine delicacies
of female flesh. Svelte, like
the croupier's green vision of cloth,
tingley-trigger smooth yet addictive
to the touch.
III
Or the pleasures of Ovaltine
(not necessarily the brand name)
... by the handful or cup ...
upon a summer's day,
the mind blur of expensive art.
IV
Blackjack. Three card stud.
The poker-faced look of
many opponents peeling cards
from the bottom of the deck,
some ear-marked for success
with time-honoured stratagems
(& doctored hands) that leave me
reeling (or is it nursing) patent-made regrets.
V
Something primeval about wanting
to trade up your fortune at the
expense of the House. Ambuscades.
Indecision.
VI
Games of chance
the apt metaphor
of our daily roulettes.