Monday, May 4, 2009

The Royal Flush

Hear ye, the high and mighty
gluttons of a wealthy deal.
Where's your King of Club...
do you know how to feel?

Your time is over
in self satisfied glory,
the buck is broken,
the soft doe rises
to a kinder, gentler deal.

The meek have been waiting
to inherit their worth,
the Mother force watches
with a waxing mirth.

An ace in the hole,
just another deal
for assholes grabbing
in last straws of chance,
in side parted helmets
of an era gone past.

Royal lizards with slivery tongues
can't mask their cunning
to the lowly ones.

We sink, we seek...
not in poor me, the flame
flicks higher where words
have no meaning.

Come play the hand that caresses,
the cards are in the reading.
A royal flush is a Tarot's
dream of oblivion.

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