ACES AND EIGHTS By Michael N. Thompson

I’m fifteen bucks

into a twenty-dollar bill

on Dollar Draft Night

at the Frolic Two

Not the one of Bukowski fame

near Hollywood and Vine

This is one of those side street bars

where human wheels rust

waiting for their ships to come in

A proletariat society

of lives that came up short

prop up the bar

as they nurse more wounds

than Christ at Golgotha

and I’m no different

than the rest of them

We all came from somewhere

to be someone or something

but this town’s full

of more false promises

than a paroled man

fresh from the penitentiary

Sure, the road travelled

has been bumpier than expected

but it doesn’t mean

the light at the end of the tunnel

has to be a train

It’s better to roll snake eyes

than be dealt the dead man’s hand

Michael N. Thompson likes bacon, cats and fantasy football.  His poetry has appeared in numerous literary journals including Word Riot, Toronto Quarterly and San Pedro River Review. He is the author of four poetry collections, the most recent being A Murder Of Crows published by University of Hell Press. www.michaelnthompson.com