The Miracles of Money

by on November 6, 2019 :: 0 comments

I see him while I grind away
at penny keno, hoping to turn
$5 into $15
He’s wizened, thin
a smoked hock baking
in cigarette smoke
and he has 1,000s,
odd in this backwater town
One day I sit beside him and watch
“You live in Lakeport?” I ask
He blinks in amazement
that someone has chosen
to talk to him
“All my life. Are you
an angel?” he asks
He’s serious, and I realize
he is insane
“No,” I say,
as he hits
another jackpot
“Good one,” I say
“The miracles of money,” he says
looking toward the heavens
and the angels
forever circling
his head

editors note:

Believe or bet; it’s a gamble all the way. – mh clay

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