The luck and chance poems VI - Broken nose

Call me up to your world
Of long nights and whispered secrets
Call me up to be concerned
About lights and lesser words
Ride this scale to no end
And be sure to have a plan
Because your back is plain and tight
Contained and round, is your headlight
And your broken nose
Make sure it's seen
And your eyes
What colour are they?
Give me a chance to break in
Give me a word to make me feel better
I know your lips are in denial
I know your heart is not in shape
And who fucking cares?
And who wants to know?
Another smile, another space
Somebody will have them, I'm sure
And I'm sure that you'll be grateful

The luck and chance poems V - How to steamroll an ego

She'll be singing until 3 am
Then it's time to pick up the waste
And start all over again
Red faced and without the taste
Of starberry and knack
She's blunt, she's dressed in black
She wears a flower in her hair
Though she's never seen the Golden Bridge
She puts up with deadbeats in a binge
And raises smiles never there
But she's just another klutz
She's just a pretty face
And if you ever see her there
Tell her I send my regards
And my most sincere sorrows

She's a little on the short side, I know
She's been covered by the smoking athlete way too often
(But never really gave herself away)
She seems a little hollow
I would never trust her
I would never care
Unless she somehow gave up
Unless she somehow became beaten
Unless she somehow became perfect
Which she'll never be

The luck and chance poems IV - The new debris

It staggers, how come?
It's humanity in its purest form
I'll be condemned
I'll never forget
The football stars of yesteryear
The actors and actresses
The streetwise kids
The bubble gum types
The coke-snorting young director
And his older counterpart
The high heel whores
The noveau-rich
The noveau-poor
And the old money and the new money
And everything in between
All smothering, all cursing me
All made into floatsam
All molded into the new debris

The luck and chance poems III - Fuck you, sir

Hello, sir, how's your night?
I hope everything is going fine
Are you winning? Are you losing?
Do you really have to stand there carousing?
Thank you, sir, for this change
You know I'd never really be in rage
Just stay there if you want more
Are you leaving? Good night and fuck you, sir
You don't like it? That's your trouble
And shut up if you don't want to make it double
Look at me, I'm so alive
And, even so, I'm so way pass my time

Because you're now going to listen to me
Do you know that she won't give me head?
Not even a piece of her mind, you see
No compensation for the troubles I have had
I couldn't care less about your death
Couldn't care less about your loss
Sit there and cry your lost bets
Fuck you, just look at my dross

How are you, madame? Your matinee?
Things aren't really going your way?
Yes, I know, this fun sucks
Specially when you're so out of luck
Now, when you leave, just be sure
You won't let yourself get hit by the door
Yes, you heard me, you heard me fine
I can't stand another second of your whine
And you were thinking you had had them
Sorry to disappoint, farewell and fuck you, madame

Because you're so sad in your self-pity
Yes, so am I but look at it through my eyes
Now, for once, I thought she was pretty
Until she started burying herself in alibis
Fuck you if you can't see it's only plastic
Fuck you if you can't raise your nose higher
We're both at a loss but your's so automatic
While I'm here losing her youth and her fire

The luck and chance poems II - Glimpse into the pass

You know she used to be beautiful
You can see it in her sulken face
The ghosts of a youth long lost
As she hesitantly scribbles in a notepad

You know she was all that, once
You just know it
There's still some fire in her eyes
It remains from those days with numerous pretendants
And full of laughter
Forty years from now
She would have been Kar Wai Wong's favourite

And then
What?
She got all tied up
She went to a foreign land of strange people with round eyes
Who couldn't speak her language
The years wearing away
In some downtown basement

Now, she sits at the table, she's all alone
I give her something to spend her time
A weary smile on her lips as the two girls beside her
Flirt with the boy in the shirt
A smile of someone who knows too well
Of someone who has seen this scene too many times
And she can almost remember
How the words went

The luck and chance poems I - My Hands

My hands will take fortunes away
My hands will give fortunes away
It all lingers
On a butterfly beating its wings
As soft, as hard as a dream
The smoke spreads everywhere

A man looks at me, his face in reproach
The ideas that run through his head are easy to guess
Numbers, schemes, he does the math
He knows he'll get home a pauper
And it's all because of my hands

The night goes on, the dawn is still far away
Who knows what loose spirits
Will come out and play?
My hands keep their tired routine
Trading, dealing, hunting
Waiting for their shot
And, when it comes
They'll break you in the glimpse of an eye

Keep away
Sometimes you will be fortunate
But mostly you won't
My hands will do their job