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Kwik Trip
I only play the
lottery
When
the pot grows huge.
Pretending Death's my number,
I'
m always glad to lose.
For months and months,
I
never play at all.
Red, flashing letters
Screaming,
"Powerball!"
Go unheeded
As
I pay for milk and gas.
I smile, pocket my change,
And
let it pass.
But sometimes, when I see
The
odds are growing,
I buy a dollar ticket
For
a lark, well knowing
It's not my number yet,
Not
this week's drawing.
I take a chance, I lose,
And
I avoid the coffin.
But now I see the prizes mounting
Much
more often.
This never-winning winning
Has
a downside too;
You feel the terrible odds one day
Will
get to you.
The Kwik Trip draws me now
When
I don't need gas.
Perhaps someone has won it all,
But
no one has.
I face the Powerball machine.
I
dance a nervous jig.
I buy ten dollars' worth of tabs
And
pray to hit it big.
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