I cannot play Poker

Some people can play poker Not me My thoughts and feelings sit at the edge of my face Jumping on the necks and backs of people If you disgust me, my disgust might take a bite out of you If I listed all the things that irritate and disgust me You would feel put upon and irritated No one wants to hear this Instead I bring my rant back to my unhidden feelings When I am sad they yell, stomp, scream, and screech. All without benefit of voice But you see my face and you know See now why I cannot play poker? When I have a winning hand my crescent smile lights up Manhattan. And I live in Kansas. My thoughts and feelings cannot be secured, lassoed or hidden. They blaze forward like a super hero on speed. In spite of my best efforts to act aloof or indifferent.