The Gambler

The gambler The night, on the other side of the bay, is a spinning roulette garish, the entrance to the cave of the netherworld guns and uniforms at the place of iniquity; remove your hat, sir! The voice is menacing, a hand gripping a gun. Eyes are dark pools transfixed, much to lose, one spin more the self-loathing is a frozen grin, the light on the promenade throws itself into the dark water simulating self-destruction one more cast of the dice; luck will return There is no winner in this obscene hunt for the unobtainable small wins are quickly lost at the wheel of hope and sorrow one more gamble before the day awakes to more indignity as the losers walk home in defeated silence.