The Gamble

How horrible the night without
her in it! She like Las

Vegas, the light

From a city nestled
in a desert, distant, toward

Which I been driving—
Oasis she is

The thirst that allows
me to see

Days of dunes shimmering
of sipped canteen—

The funny papers all call
her peril

Her apparel full of heels

Pumps mules
which work me more

Than the old man's farm—
On her I would

Wager the whole caboodle,
sidle up to a green felt

Table and ante
my kitty, lay down

My get-out-of-town monies—

Joe Moore in my pocket
Shortie by my side

A sure thing, a streak
winning—

Like dice we kiss—

She calls me Gorgeous
Her r's rolling: Lover,

Fever, chiarascuro, forever

While she rolls me
for my dough, slips

Me the mickey
the gooba dust—then

Out the back. Sick
broke dumb

As luck, I drive holding on
to the ache of after

Her monogrammed unmentionables

Her laughter
like a track, fast—

Days shot for night

In this garish light
I drive to conjure her

Four Thieves Vinegar
John the Conqueror

Root in my breast pocket—

The scenery that winds past
a screen

I only pretend to see—

She went and put
some kind of hog on me

Only her and hurryment
on my mind—

On its own
the steering wheel turns

Taking blind the curves