fetch my poker face to the table
so that i may sit
between mummers
massed as mourners
waiting to reassemble themselves  
into the details of the tragedy  
so that i may sit
among the two-backs and face-stabbers
as they draw/cast splits/knives
to become the shoulders
attached to my tears

bring my poker face to the table
when this is over
because i will not hold
these old frames without folding
after looking into copy after copy
of your faded eyes
my stomach will flip
harder then
than at the prospect
of reheated condolences
for a week

have my poker face at the table
when we speak of things
that sting
like  cold showers at 4 am
stinking like
wet towels left to long
or sticking like t-shirts in july
and leave me cursing
things that are only so long(s)
but never fair well(s)