stubble

Though I don’t myself

it is good to me to know

somewhere in a smoky

basement

poker is played

on the hex

oak surface

in the suburb.

Though I don’t like

them myself

next to cornfield stubble

german cars

are shown

off the highway

by a young man

gambling on the

wheels and that

a car’ll earn

more than roulette

took

from the neighbor

kids.

Though there is

no difference

between them anymore,

being driven,

on an exhilarated

saturday,

hanging out

with an older girl

on a cold mid

morning.