Five

Oh Riggoletto,

Don't you want to bet-o

No need to sweat-o

Here's what you'll get-o

     The words of a gamblin' man rang in my ear

Calling attention, entreating me near.

     He watched as we gathered to his pitchman's song

The action was coming, it wouldn't be long.

     A large bag of gold he held t'ward the roof

The crowd was awakened, not one aloof.

     Shoulder to shoulder the fat and the thin
were eagerly listen'ing over the din.
     I figured I'd wait and see how this goes
when an old hand at betting scratched at his nose
     and took up the offer to challenge a game
then threw down his poke to the man with no name

     The man he was startled, I couldn't see why
But the newcomer's call had drained spark from his eye.
     He stood there and pondered his moustache a-twiching
But greed overcame him and his palms were itching.
     I don't know exactly the worth of that bag
But the cards started flying like notes of a rag
   
     I saw now the reason both came there that night
It wasn't for women or booze or a fight.
     A different addiction, a rush so divine,
had captured these men with their gold in a line.
     And one would have nothing at the end of it all
Just for the thrill of the gambling man's call.