The Manly Gamblers

His sire liked poker
and other games of chance.
Liked real playing--for dough.
The lad tagged along
though hours would pass
before the return trip home.
The manly gamblers played,
joked, wisecracked, drank,
peed and smoked. Each
uncouth hour seemed an
eternity to the boy. In
winter it was cold in the
room at times and he
shivered in his corner
between cat naps. Some-
times his stomach growled
but he had to wait till his
dad decided to leave. When
lucky he got a nickel for a
packet of cheese or malt
peanut butter crackers
or a moon pie. The dad
died young leaving the lad
half-orphaned. Also bread-
winner of sorts. Life would
get better but never be
halcyon. During those
low-watt games the boy
photographed and audio-
taped every thing intensely
in his many-sided minor's
mind.