Low End Highroller

there’s this sinister part of me

a part which

takes a sick

kind of joy

in watching these people scurry

like mad children

across the floor

they come here

to live a fantasy and

they believe that

fantasy

they feed the house their every cent

cashing checks and

taking out advances

with the dream

the hope

of hitting the

jackpot

there’s a system

a cycle

running over

themselves

retracing the same steps

night after night

it doesn’t matter though

even the ones

who defy the odds

find a way to lose

betting and betting

til the pot dwindles

leaving them empty

you see the same faces

every evening

reeking of cheap cigars

stale beer

and desperation

scrounging for

loose

quarters nickles

dimes and

pennies

to buy a ticket

this is the business of

enablement

of distancing the guest from

reality

expensive escapism

stretching them thin

wringing them of every last drop

of blood

this is the business of

entitlement

where the peasant is

king

where the eunuch is

virile

whether it be minutes

or hours

most return

teary eyed

exasperated

wondering how they will

make it to next

payday

at least they got a

nice panini press and

ten percent off at

the buffet

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