Untitled

Hearts beat
For as long as they want

Hearts belong
To no one but themselves

New

The paper golden hats lay down
on the moist and stained old floor
the noise makers and buzzer whistles
have been discarded 'neath the tables
the street girls are at the bar
waiting
waiting for the good boys to give up
and find a value to the object
the band has been gone for hours
the cocktail waitresses
are staggering and tired
grinding out some rent money
the frat boys have lost the bets all night
so they keep plugging at the tables
in desperation
the girls, in their thigh high little dresses,
are wobbling through the casino
their makeup has melded with sweat
turning the canvas of their faces
into a melted wax portrait type of feel
the dealers are yawning
the pit bosses sigh
as the house counts the take
and rings in the new day
with a parade of security personnel
marching through the room
like a lethargic uniformed army
walking heavy upon a conquered land