From "Childe Roland to Barrhaven Came"
What in the midst lay but the poker game itself?
The round squat table, blind as the fool's heart, Built
of brown wood, without a counter-part
In the whole world. Google maps' mocking
elf Points to the designated driver thus the unseen shelf He strikes on, after
three point start.
Not see? because of beer perhaps?
Why, day Came back
again for that! before it left,
The game's explanation kindled through a
cleft:
The complex rules, like giants at a hunting, lay,
Chin
upon hand, to see the game at bay, "Cards are wild only if they are
six!-the split pot's heft!"
Not hear? when noise was everywhere! it toll'd
Increasing
like a bell.
Names in my ears
Of all the wild cards announced by my
peers,
How such a one was deuce, a two, I was told
Though he had two twos, yet
the dealer of old
Lost, lost! one moment knell'd the woe of years.
The players sat, ranged behind chips, met
To view the
last hand, a living frame For one more picture! in a sheet of flame
I saw my
cards were not too good.
And yet Dauntless, my hands behind the chips set,
Yelled "Childe Roland to Barrhaven came... and I'm ALL
IN!"
[Many, many, apologies to Browning: http://www.bartleby.com/246/654.html]
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