a casino. The windows
are tinted almost black,
and the neon inside defies
the notion that it might be
getting light outside.
But one thing I do
finally notice is how
the restaurant lines
are growing longer.
People want breakfast.
Which means it must
be later than I thought.
“What time is it?”
I ask a passerby, and
his answer blows me
away. Six after nine.
Twenty-four minutes
until church starts.
We’re going to be late!
Just let me finish this
hand, Dad says, watching
the blackjack dealer flip
a card and bust. Oh, yeah!
Guess I’m cashing out.
Why am I cashing out?
I’m on a regular roll.
“Cash out, Dad. We’ve
got to go. Hunter’s getting
baptized in less than half
an hour. I probably ought