Play or fold stakes are high,
I raise you bluff, I see the lie,
Call! show me what you got,
nothing at all, I take the lot.
Play or fold lets up the danger,
Russian roulette real game changer,
No bluffing just ride your luck,
get it wrong really gonna suck.
What’s the matter got no guts,
yeah plenty, but I’m not nuts,
No fun in gambling away my life,
besides I’ve cleaned up tonight.
Oh come on we can’t stop now,
one last game then take a bow,
Ok must admit, I do love a dare,
especially when playing solitaire.
By
David Kavanagh
The bank sign blinks its message late at night,
two types of information for the indolent,
the traffic light is cycling, though there's not a car in sight,
alarm clocks disinter the drugged and somnolent.
Newspaper delivery is the only game in town,
'til early morning merchants raise their blinds,
dogs are let out, leashed, and led to do what they must do,
first shoppers disregard the warning signs.
Men in trenchcoats congregate on corners,
they speak into their sleeves in muffled tones,
in grey fedoras, all dressed up for secrecy and stealth;
they question early birds about their loans,
political affiliations, clubs, and weapons owned,
they formulate a blueprint of your life;
what you thought was private isn't private any more,
they follow you, ask questions of your wife.
Two weeks ago John Dixon disappeared without a trace,
the authorities had nothing to declare,
Jim Dean and Charlie Watson were imprisoned in disgrace,
their families are shocked and in despair.
The net is growing wider and the fear is closing in,
what happened to the notion that we're free?
their numbers are increasing and the hour is getting late,
yesterday at ten they came for me.
I'll only be here periodically
because I quit my job at the WTC.
I went up to the boss and asked for my money.
I just no longer could handle any of this controversy
which will only promote more future disharmony,
plus I can't relate to my co workers cerebrally.
Every day I am surrounded with stupidity.
Time to get out before stupidity rubs off on me.
Working at the World Trade Center obviously
was very trying for me anyway emotionally.
Everyday
I felt like I was on my way
to work in a mass cemetery
where thousands of my loved ones were taken from me.
Reconstructing the World Trade Center unfortunately
is the only game in town left for one in the construction industry.
What can I say? Yours Truly must eat,
so once again
I'm earning a living
as an interstate trailer driver driving cross country.
Could one of you out there do me a favor please?
Someone
get a gun
and please shoot me.
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