Caesar Salad

It’s 5:15 in the morning at the Horseshoe Casino

I’ve been grinding away for 12 straight hours
at the 3/6 limit table

Donkeys with Bluetooth headsets
slackjaws Serbian loudmouths
beauty queens playing the game for the first time
the whole spectrum of Tuesday gamblers
comes and goes

Once it gets down to 3-handed and a fat dealer named Roberto
I decide to call it a day

I lost $1

A night like this can’t end any other way

I get on the 5:30 shuttle back to Chinatown
and take a seat towards the back

Nothing lets you know where your life is headed
better than being on a dark bus filled w/ hookers
and elderly Chinese men in windbreakers
at 5:31 in the morning on a Wednesday

I’m a winner
I think

The sound of a container cracking behind me
the smell of Caesar dressing
the lip smacking
the guttural breathing

of course

I try to ignore it
but can’t
I wish I was Buddhist
and not obsessive

then something occurs to me
the lip smacking hasn’t stopped for two straight minutes
the breathing seems to be getting heavier

a female cough and a gag

Now I really wish I was Buddhist

Could the Dalai Lama ignore a guy getting a blow job
while he eats a Caesar salad?

I get up
covering my peripherals
and move even further to the back

I find a seat
and sit down

I’m still a winner
I think

only this time
I have a chance to laugh

© 2009 Lee Kitzis

Happy Birthday Max

The workdays get longer

The angry Russian men come in
wearing bluetooth headsets
beer guts expanding gray and black fake silk shirts

the truth is in the broken radio
and Max the stockman
celebrating his 75th birthday on the job

the buzz of the light
like an obese mosquito

while we hide in the cooler
eating pork rinds
and dreaming of the latina sample-girl’s thighs

everyone of us
running out the clock

the nukes will take us

before they take him

9 o’ clock

Happy Birthday Max

let’s punch out
and get the fuck out of here

© 2008 Lee Kitzis