I bought some magic dice,

a wizened Chinaman convinced me

they contained an ancient wisdom

and would never let me down,

I threw them out the window

when you packed your bags and left,

but they rebounded off the taxi cab

that sped you out of town.

I joined the Foreign Legion

and embraced the isolation

of the Kalahari Desert

with the sun my only friend,

I tossed the dice each morning

at the scorpions who scuttled

to the shadows of the fallen men

and waited for the end.

I crawled out of the gutter

to the carpet of a foyer

throwing sevens with alacrity,

a pornographic priest,

I slept eleven days and then

accused the girl who woke me

of conspiracy to steal my soul

and sell it to the Beast.

Escaping through the darkness

I was chased by all and sundry

but I threw a double six which left them

clamoring for more,

I dove into the river

and the current pulled me over

to the side of Godly virtue

waiting on the other shore.

Forgotten sins were waiting

and they held me to the mirror

forcing tears of red regret to fall

and wash away my fate,

the dice refused to help me

as they turned to cubes of sugar

and the sweet refrain of angels

sang me down to Satan’s Gate.