ON THE CASINO FLOORS
From the far end of the hallway the gracious pit boss yells out
“Hey, Flipper, we are clearing a space at the crap table for you."
There was a brief respectful pause, a search for one with enough clout
To warrant a distinct player transplant for another buck or two.
(Explanation: The way I seem to luckily "flip" the dice on the table, players gave me that special name.)
SEARCH FOR THE PERFECT SPOT
The slot machines used to be divinely set to please;
They have not conjured any excited screams anymore.
Slipped vouchers to the noisy, colorful new ones, with ease
But find we could not reap rewards like in days of yore.
ON THE EXCITEMENT OF WINNING
Allow me to peacefully show a triumphant grin
While sharing high-fives over a winning roulette spin,
Then shove over the chips to my appointed next of kin.
Payout? Secure my thumbmark --- 'ere rigor mortis sets in
