It may look spectacular,
The first-time roll
of the – count them and weep – five sixes
that make up the thrill of Yahtzee,
but what does that matter if all you roll
afterwards is the odd
double four,
forever chasing the large straight
or the four of a kind,
shaking your hand, blowing
the dice, willing them
to give you the thrill once more of a five
that leads to a hundred…
forgetting that the win is based
partly on making sure you score
The heavy Midnight air still lingers even at 4am,
it shifts and pauses, floats and stops but never moves
far from your door.
Exhaling the drag end of a cheap nasty cigar
and blowing a kiss to the tendrils of mist
that collect at your feet, numbing them ahead
of the perfect summer’s day to come,
you are reminded that
for inside every good man
there is a villain that the public
want to see emerge,
a Captain Hook for their imagination and mouth