Hey Dealer

June 4, 2009
I never know exactly what's coming next.
Every time I sort things out real neatly,
the cards shuffle sideways and change my hand
so instead of winning big-time
I'm left with "what the crud?" across my face
and no chips left to bet.

So I switch my game.
Instead of poker, I try my hand
at my friends' table: blackjack.
But it's just not with me right now.
Every time I get a card, it sends me over
by just one -- just enough to piss me off.

So I switch my game.
Cards just aren't for me, I guess,
but roulette should work, right?
So simple -- spread a few thousand
and watch the ball spin -- spin -- fall --
and on the exact wrong number, too.

It's only after a few years,
fifty-five thousand,
many drinks and little sleep
that I realize it wasn't card games
that were wrong for me.
It was gambling, in and of itself.

So I became a dealer.





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