The Lullybarons

We gather at midnight,
dealing clockwise
five cards a stud.
The breeze stops
and mixes with
the philly winds.
You broke out
your guitar,
a master of
four/four time.
A buck a finger,
five bucks a hand.
I was never afraid
of doubling down.
Easy risks behind
thick smoke clouds.
Call my bluff,
I dare you.
Interest displaces
itself in hands
rooted deep in
empty-pocket sorrows.
So, the quick snaps
finger picking jazz
takes the stage
and we are all
in the shadow of
his silent glory.