[38] Mohs, Robert Beveridge

Nine pages confront you, ask
for the inevitable chip count. Chaat
and strong coffee between hands.
The game changes, often
with each deal; your negotiation
skills as important as your hand
histories. You want to ask
if those are original Mondrians
on the walls, but can’t find a pit
boss to save your life.

Powdered sugar holds sway
over the dealer’s ear. You check
your bag, are dismayed to find
only taffy. Put on your asbestos
underwear and prepare to once
again battle one-eyed jacks,
suicide kings, the ghost
of Edward G. Robinson.

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