Poem Hunter
Pocket Queens
EM (7/20 / Brawley, CA)

Pocket Queens

Poem By Eli MorenoDrew

I deal the cards out.
Two for each me and myself.
Pocket queens,
My favorite.
I stare down my competitor.
He was bluffing.
I couldn’t read him, but he was bluffing.
That’s how he gets around,
Raising and bluffing,
Begging others to join the madness.
It’s amazing what the risk is with nothing:
Two queens, that’s what I have to lose.
So I called the raise.
And with each card flipped and buried,
I felt the sweat bead on my knitted brow.
My competition didn’t even blink.
Why would the King of Deceit?
So when we crossed that bloody river,
It was clear: murdered by a flush of hearts.
Then I showed myself the bleeding hearts.
It was true.

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