Listen to poem:
Jackpot Eyes
How close it was but sadly not to be
with chosen numbers falsely provident -
deserving no such serendipity
lest I remain reckless and delinquent.
Mine are the sins of a Protestant son
whose dream ticket near made me well-heeled,
but my wheel of fortune has been spun
and my jackpot eyes hermetically sealed.
No luck, no pockets of silver and gold,
no libertine joy till O’ happy dirge!
Now my Faustian spirit that sold its soul
will not my blunted senses purge.
No wild debauchery drunk and depraved
and no fast women in fast cars to abscond.
O' well, I'd only be badly behaved
with some giddy perky pneumatic blonde!
Written: December 1996
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