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.
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