A Few More Wins (please)
¶ 1
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The woman behind the counter
grins as I hand the fiver over,
fist hovering over her mouth
to conceal the smile I know is there,
the one that says ‘you’re the
one who never wins.’
It’s not for the lack of trying, though
as I sit hunched over in the bookie’s,
plotting and planning painstakingly:
a line of 4 homes that pays
out forty quid; 5 aways
for close to a tonne
and a list of highly improbables –
pay-out fifty grand.
I won the other week:
4 homes for a £1 stake,
the woman’s face a picture
as she handed me the money –
£32 or thereabouts.
The smile was all mine;
I didn’t conceal it at all.
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