The Poker Poetry Contest

[LuckYou777]

"good luck today!" his friends would say.
"its not a game of luck."
he went to the nugget,
returned and said, "f*ck it,
three hours, and twenty grand stuck."

---

once upon a poker craze,
a young man watched a game,
thought cash and cars and Shana Hiatt,
respect, (and cash!), and fame.

he found some year-old birthday cash,
some paychecks and the like,
he cashed them at a local bank,
then drove out to the Bike.

in his finest hoody sweatshirt,
and his glasses Oakley made,
the self proclaimed young prodigy
of poker sat and played.

he took his seat, sat down with sharks,
cold eyes and silent lips.
he swore he saw their fear of him
before he bought his chips.

he played by intuition,
(never thought once of EV.)
he knew the game from front to back
(he'd seen it on TV.)

the hand was dealt. the first to act
did boldly raise the blind,
the second player raised again,
our hero had made up his mind.

he checked his cards- a garbage hand.
he knew the perfect play.
a subtle play of great finesse,
one rarely used today.

the weak of mind and faint of heart
would not consider callin'.
but hero was no cow'rd or fool!
he smiled and uttered, "all in."

the table gasped. he knew their thoughts-
"such bravery, poise, and skill!
such calm collected confidence,
intelligence and will!"

he knew that he was on his way
to be a hold'em great!
until a player said, "you @$$,
this is low-limit omaha 8."

---

[img]/images/graemlins/club.gif[/img] monte