Quest

Jackson mocks me as I feed him into the machine.
I remind myself with each tap of the button that
I sold myself for this pleasure and the thrill intensifies.
I get nothing in return and that – that drives
me to give more. I am left alone with lighter pockets;
I am empty and I need to be filled back up.

A quick stop for a shot of sour mash, two more,
and then I am on my way.

I find him at the final table again, coveting
his neighbor’s chips and making small talk.
He is already a winner and his easy smile makes
them squirm in their seats; I have been there,
I want to be there, I will be there soon –
it is a challenge I know I will win, one way or another.

The more they lose, the more they are willing to give;
they don’t know how to play the game.

Our eyes meet for one brief second and the main event begins.

~*~

~mvh