high-roller

I went to Vegas this weekend
I had on that blue dress
low-cut and long
the one you like
but I still had my brown boots on
and this guy at the table
he kept winning
and he kept giving me chips
he said I brought him luck.
I swear to Christ he must have
won 40 thousand dollars at that
table.
and he was a nice guy.
he told me,
“don’t go away, we’re going to win
the world!”
it was some night, believe me.
you don’t like Vegas, do
you? she asked.

I once got married there,
I said.

what’d you do over the
weekend?   she asked.

I waxed my car,
I told her.

Author
Charles Bukowski
Written
1977
Source
Original manuscript
This poem appeared in the following books: