Friday, June 26, 2015

poem of the day 06.26.15

the unluckiest man on the face of the earth

i’ve never bet one cent on sports
never played a slot machine
or rolled dice in vegas
i don’t like poker or gin
i wrote poems at the dog races
and drunkenly threatened to call the ASPCA
many editors have called me bukowski light
but the horse races can have themselves
when someone says, i’ll bet you
i usually balk, even if i know i’m right
my wife wants to bet me all of the time
but we share a bank account
so it makes no goddamned sense
i was in atlantic city once years ago
but i spent the weekend crushing ritalin pills
putting the powder up my nose
and getting drunk on vodka and beer
when i wasn’t in the strip clubs
there was a documentary on donald trump
that played continuously
i’m willing to bet no one watched it more than once but me
i tend to eat the same foods
and get drunk on the same shit night after night
i don’t even take any chances on people
i haven’t made a new friend in years
and the ones i have
i could lay some money down
on what their reactions would be
but whenever the people in my office
collect money for the lottery
i usually chip in a buck
not for the thrill of chance
but out of fear that they’ll win one day
when i don’t play
and that the next morning
i’ll wake up with the realization
that they’re all millionaires now
free of the stigma of having to work a job
and that i’ll have to go into work alone
die there in my seat until i’m sixty-five
end up on the front cover of the new york post
with a big headline in bold letters calling me
the unluckiest man on the face of the earth.

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