Luck of the Devil
At a Greyhound station in Macon, Georgia I gambled my soul with the Devil.
He strolled in after midnight and told me he was on the level
and asked if I was a gambling man and I said, "Well, that just depends,
I never flirt with another man's wife and never play poker with friends."
"I don't want to be your friend," he said, "just want your soul for damnation."
and from his mac he produced a pack of cards for examination.
"The games Blackjack," as cards fled from the pack and landed in my hand.
"Best of five? Then your staying alive, if I get three then your damned."
The first four games saw honours even with both getting two games each
then the Devil dealt the final hand and I lost the power of speech
as he turned over the first of his cards, a red lady, the Queen of Hearts
I matched him with the pilfering knave, the one who stole the tarts.
His second card he then revealed, the husband of the Queen
and a rasping cackle escaped from his throat as I turned a little green.
I flipped my second card to see the King of Spades smile back,
but my relief was only brief and the Devil slammed down the pack.
"Too bad," he oiled, "I pay 21's." My face distorted with pain.
"I'm not finished yet, just honour your bet and hit me once again."
I picked up the card he proffered and held it close to my face,
I sneaked a peak then slammed it down to reveal a club, the Ace!
My soul was safe, the Devil roared and stormed out with a boom
and all that remained was the faintest whiff of sulphur in the room.
Copyright © John Jones | Year Posted 2020
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