the dice has
eyes in the back
of its head, it can
see the next roll,

dead giveaway
the highwayman
traded amber pistol grips
for the german widow's batter,
she had no gun, 'twas a polishing
rag that shot a shiny hole in a muffin tin,

saloon floor
rose up one day
to meet the table's
underbelly, poker game
gave all it had, bills and coins
bet the hand that would cheat
death, but unlucky was the day,
there wasn't much room between
the floor and the Truth,

the dice has
eyes in the back
of its head, it can
see the next roll.

Copyright Ms. Sage Sweetwater, firebrand lesbian novelist