7 Come 11

In the old days men would hang dice from the rear view mirror

Thats the spot where Hope and Peace live

Two Dice mid throw slowing time down to a crawl

The winnings stuck in your mind

Not anxious

Not afraid

Hopeful

Cigarettes

bourbon

Perfume

The table is pure

Foam Pyramids glued to the panels

Feels like a dungeon for paychecks

Its us against the house

We are all together in this

My hands are hot tonight

Ive made people money here

I like to come from underneath the table with em

My cousin taught me that move

Its clean and fluid

It raises eyebrows

Thats where I live

In the raised eyebrow category

Women as good as they can look hanging on men

Like a family on TV

You know they are wearing the best they have

I like that

I like everyone acting

Its more pure that way

Otherwise we all pretend to be something else in our regular attire

No… this way everyone’s already exposed

Chatter turns to hoots and hollers

Every eye on these two cubes

Suspended in the air over the field

Dancing in the light

Skating over the pass line

Its the most beautiful symphony

Everyone needs to win

I cant miss another dinner

But I’m glued to the table now

We are one now

She’s my avenue

Give me that 30:1

You can be late if there’s a roll of money in your pocket

and a story…

I like Dice the hardways

I like Boxcars

I like winking at the waitress when I throw

I like the little backscratcher sliding chips my way

I like the dealer side eyeing the pit boss

I like the 3 seconds of relief as they fly

Finally something isn’t up to me

The weight is off my shoulders

Nothing can change the outcome now

Its win or lose for some

For me its just a game

For me its just dice on the mirror

For me I’ve already won