Thursday, October 10, 2013


Politics Waxes and Wanes

But Poker Is Forever

“Who melt this dess?” Mick-Mack, our Teapartier, exclaimed.

“Finally losing it totally!” Worse remarked.

“Don't you DISH?” He meant wish.

Worse was for ‘Worse than a Communist.’ Our leader, Clock,
had stepped in back then, pronouncing no more politics,
but Worse's name stuck.

When Mickey-Mack didn't show the next time, Clock tried
home and cell, then called police. Everybody always had
gotten here, or phoned.

Patrolperson Webberly entered at the next game, asking us
questions. MM had disappeared without the proverbial trace.

Worse guessed he spontaneously combusted in rage.
But the Professor scoffed that all such cases on shaky science.

“Rather, he fell into the river and drowned.”

“Like in Goodnight Irene?” Worse asked him.

“...his body f-loating to sea, then slowing sinking.” On went
Professor, as if with the body.

“Full fathom five
our colleague lies,
his bones are coral made.”

Webberly sat in for the first time.

Now she’s a Captain and never misses. She's also ‘Nose.’
Though a beauty, one generous proboscis. When winning,
she often says “The Nose knows!”

Our teapartier never found, so less anger in the game,
and world.

The professor opines that he could be discovered,
or a fragment, if the department only thought outside
the box...!

Nose claims they’re required to do only that presently.

“Who melt this dess?” Clock yells at that moment.
We all laugh. The perennial ‘Dealt this mess’ never
again would be said that way here.

Clock finally announces the evening’s last hand,
and muses that he has played twelve years and
is twenty-four dollars ahead. “But that could be
behind. Since I lost my Evvie, my bookkeeping
is suspect."

“Well she left a legacy: Made you into a total pussy!”
Worse snaps.

Nose finally goes down the aisle with a house dick
from Sears. We’re all invited and like him off the bat.

But he couldn’t play. No couples!--from sad experience
with pair who continued their sniping into the game.
Clock dismissed them forever.

They wanted a vote, but he said “I’m the vote.”

“Who melt this dess?” our bride laughs now.

“Don't you worry about hubby's fidelity while you’re doing
your cutthroat thing here?” Clock occasionally kittenish.

“I never worry about anything. Wasted effort. I’ve seen the dregs
of everything and I’m immensely better off. Immensely!”

Well, rest of us still sorta worried a bit about our lost teapartier.
Icy cold case. But I guess that's life , or Poker, or something.

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well told
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