i walked into a lion's den
one night on the Boulevard de Clichy
among the neon lights of the strip shows
and shadows of tourists seeking a peek
at the exotic worlds inside
it was the devil's time
laid out in my hands
a trophy of leisure
as i stood watching a spectacle of men
hovering over a contest
of 'three card monte'
or as the french might call it
the "menage-a-card"
three of them black
a white dot marked
the illusive one
always face down
until the dealer revealed it
with a quick flip
to mostly losers
throwing down Francs and American dollars
one thing my father told me was that
"you could never win at three card monte"
and so i watched
skeptical of the con
conscious of the shills
and picked it out almost every time
until a drop of rain
fell out of Chagall's purple sky
filled with stars and clowns
and landed on the target card
marking it for good
promising a can't lose
in the con man's game
5 more rounds i watched
wondering how nobody noticed
that splash of rain
and on the 6th round
the three cards went down
the stiff in the brown trench coat
picked a dud
the dealer cried "50/50
double or nothing"
as the rain card sat side by side
with the loser
and "sure thing" quipped up inside me
as i threw down 200 francs
and fingered the wet winner
and watched it all disappear
with a 'mexican turnover'
as swift as a magician
soapy smith's got nothing on these frenchies
i should have listened to my old man!
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