Double down, he says. I'm not sure why
but am afraid to admit for fear of being found out
by these people who fly through the neon like supernovas,
fiery in their delivery and dismissals, and by him
who grabs what he wants not by its pony tail,
but full-on front embracing, no, becoming the king
to live on tithes hubba hubba.
I mind the risk he takes, slamming
his hand on the table when I sweep mine away
like a kid playing slapsies. We frown in tandem.
K r i s t a G e n e v i e v e F a r r i s
Proposal at Caesar’s