keeping money is like vanity
my mother says with a cider beer in her left
as my father deals the poker chips.
texas hold ‘em, you ready?
he says brushing past my mothers routine complaints..

its useless- a waste..
i watch my mother eye the stack of bills from across the room
like seeing your friend tell the same joke for the third time waiting for your reaction,
everyone gets two cards and you can look at them
and get rid of the card you find the least valuable
he says

the tension in the room is unbearable like a thick cloud
so i sneak away
to avoid being asked my opinion.