Getting Taken

Getting taken is the best deal you can find on Canal St.
A grift there is always fresh and pungent.
The Ropers are all twisted up nice,
Black and gray Hollywood heavies.
And if your billfold comes out for crooked tooth on the screen …
The tobacco cough between exhalations
Makes the short von into a leading man.
Thumb knuckles bent out obtuse;
Nimble masculinity firmly peeling hundred dollar shills.

Monty and Walnut Halves aren’t for real gamblers.
Maybe for blackties and passers,
But certainly not lovers of chance.
You see, this is a sure thing, this is the safest bet.
And you’ll double on that twenty
Cause he didn’t hint a smile o’pride,
Not even when he took you the first time.
American Professionalism.
So rare your father never saw it coming.

Oh, and the vindication you couldn’t get from a supped up model-T.
This is luck and justice and cleverness.
The Ropers preach a Cosmic Order here,
When you’re looking slim.
Maxims determinate and circumstantial.
It’s the aesthetic of likelihoods. It’s Rockefeller Karma.
The culmination of your inheritance is just sly enough.
The end rule. The last fix. Balance
Winning must be a desperate, natural symmetry.


-More Verse Coming Soon-

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