The green felt on the tables is worn and thin, the paneled walls are dark with stale cigarette smoke. The Mississippi gently pitches back and forth and the clapping of water on the hull steadies me into sleep. This iswhere Ilive. It’snot very pretty.
People roll me, spit on me, call me names like snake eyes and bones.
How do I get them to enter a place that is so dark, there is no light? I show them bright illusions and draw them in like moths to a flame.
I give them the promise of wealth.
But most people think they can control themselves. But you know the saying, play with fire and you get burned. And that’s what happens time and again. Some people get lucky. But never for long.
That’s just it. The poor fool’s neverknow how the dice will land here in paradise.