Stayed the night at the Casino Hotel and went walking the Floor around 7am on a Lonely Saturday Morning. I took a seat in front of the one armed bandit and slid in 3 dollars.
The machine tilted.
I love the Casino in the early morning hours.
Faces as miserable as I feel and lonesome bodies as lonesome as mine. Drifting in no particular direction, buying time, killing time, wondering where it all went and wondering what the fuck it was all about.
Badly treated bodies slumped in front of machines that sing the sounds of coins and crystal waters while in real time
its an Oxygen machine, a cancer card, a one-way dance with the Devil.
Walking the floor with all these dead people and animals inside of me and a few hands of blackjack to slap the grin off of the dealer.
Buy another sad American beer and tip the cleaning women on the floor instead of the pretty people. Always tip the people that nobody sees, nobody pays attention to, that keep the place tidy. You see me?
You bet your Ass, i see ya, kid. Have a good one.
Walking these lonesome floors catching a glimpse of old
gone ghost players.
The Casino, early morning ain’t so much about the winning as its about the gamble of life, taking chances even when and if ya don’t wanna. You gotta get your hand wet and dirty in this game of Life and at the same time, take the time to mull it all over and grind it fine in your mind.
Whats it all mean?
I move across the floor in my snakeskin boots with funerals in my eyes, bent on numbed anger and wanting to reach out for something that died a long time ago…
Here with the burned, the cheated, the lied to, the scorned, the lonely, the hurt, the forsaken, the lost
and the damned.