HI-LO & PLO

Once I was a master of cards

Of games pitched by skeletons

Of odds and overs and endless bankrolls

Of three bets and percentages

Pot odds and tells

So close to Hell for almost 30 years

I would often smoke camels in the rain

with Lucifer himself

Sun rising over neon lights

Or sometimes worse

Mafia fights

Hundred dollar bills wrapped in old socks

Four AM grind until the odds

would lay naked in my favor.

Cheerio boxes and black magic

A world very few understand

The upper crust of props and shills

Old school died off and left the tricks

To the chosen few

I am one even

I am none odd

I left that game to play with you

So ante up and blow off your stack

I'm watching from the rail