Like I said before, I was into gambling. Betting on horses, football games, baseball, hockey, even pro wrestling. You name it, I'd bet on it. I'd make so many bets in a period of time, that I often lose track of whether I was winning or losing. I guess it was the thrill of making a prediction. Hawk, on the other hand, was much more tight-****** with his money. There were two reasons for this. Hawk was of Scottish ancestry. This may offend some, but it made him wise in the knowledge that a penny saved was a penny earned. Also, Hawk grew up on, while I wouldn't say, the poor side of town, I would definitely say, on the modest income side of town.
We were at the old Exhibition Park, now the multi-million dollar Queensbury Downs, an ultra-modern, magnificent edifice. Exhibition Park was a rickety old place, really a disgrace in its later years. Believe me, it had many, many years.
Anyway, the nags were running one night and Werewilf and I decided to try to make some money; Werewilf thought of himself as some kind of horsey guru, but he had the odd good insight that I would sometimes cash in on. The evenings winning was progressing as usual. Werewilf hit a winner on the Daily Double and made enough to double his bets on the rest of the races. I was donating to the upkeep of the barns and the jockeys wages. I maintain that I had a part in building the new Queensbury Downs.
After the seventh race admission was free.
That is when Hawk showed up. He would spend his admission money on the last three races. The eighth and ninth races were a bust for all of us. The final race was going to be the saving grace for me and the Hawk, and Werewilf was definitely buying drinks at the curling club later.
Hawk and I looked at the horses and saw a big old grey that looked pretty good. The odds were favorable on Grey Goose, so I place my bets across the board. Hawk bet him to place. Werewilf had money on the horse as well, so it looked like a shoo-in. We were all tensed up in anticipation for the race as the horses were at the post.
"They're off!" the track announcer blared over the loudspeaker. Grey Goose cantered out of the gate and was so far behind at the quarter that he had no hope of placing. "How about an eight-horse pileup!" Hawk yelled. Forget if Hawk, this was horses, not cars. It wasn't a good thing to hope for anyway.
The rest of the pack reached the half when it became evident that Grey Goose had to let go of a load of horse buns. The laughter from the stands echoed throughout the place. Hawk seemed to take the whole scene as a personal insult. The race was over. Grey Goose finished what he had to do and came in dead last.
Hawk said, "I just paid two dollars to watch a horse have is a daily dump! I'll never bet on a horse again!" Wilf and I thought the whole thing was hilarious and considered it money well spent.
Later we met Moneybags at the Regina Curling Club in the exhibition grounds. Hawk was still grumbling about his two dollars. Moneybags was at the races too and thought what had happened with Grey Goose was very amusing, even though he had money on the horse too. Hawk was still grumbling. Moneybags accused Hawk of having Rectinitus. "What the hell is Rectinitus?" we all wondered.
Moneybags, low key, said, "Rectinitus is a medical term. It occurs when your ****** is connected to your optic nerve, culminating in a ****** outlook on life. But don't worry Hawk, It's very rarely fatal."

Deception wearing the mask
of a kind face sowing dreams,
roamed for too long these towns,
around the globe,
that erupted with mortal force,
deciding at last enough is enough.

moneybags having stone faced elegance,
in place of heads, travel in their stretch limos
in the company of swindler princes,
wizards in money juggling

at the foyers of seven star hotels,
where the false suns dawn
at sunset blackening out truth,
they stepped to the tunes
holding hands of power,
the beauty without a heart
goes around with the plastic mask
that transforms according to the stage.

they who charm you with
glib talk and usurp power,
at favorable climes
jump upon unsuspecting
hotel maids, like
resurrected ghosts of vampires.

Every street is dark
with heaped carcasses
of hopes, birds died
at their flight, in ways mysterious,
falling in thousands,
in front of the stunned faces,
of lovers, husbands, wives,
families are looking distress
on the face, every passing day.

The octopus sitting at his
secret castle in water pulls string,
continues winning spree,
as no one raise their voice.

Not any more;
the waves of people,
seething with anger would lash,
against the citadels of evil empires.
The rebel forces have their cause,
this war, the eruption of masses,
will gather momentum, they won't lose.

You're flashing your cash like I care
You're flashing your cash like I'm not there
Take your dollars, your euros, your sterling
Because I wouldn't spend a thing
As long as I had you.

You say you'll put it on your card
That your life's never been too hard
As long as you've got money in your hand
But I don't think I understand
All I need is you.

I'd rather have you had no currency
As long as you knew you had me
Because it's not about the amount
It's the little things life's about
And now I don't have you.

These politicians aren't even people,
They're machines fueled by money,
Whose conquests relentlessly propel humanity,
Ever nearer to the brink of its demise,
While a lucky few at the very top
Rake in unfathomable fortunes, and
Consolidate their power at the expense
Of those common men and women,
Who strive only to build themselves
Honest and virtuous lives.

We are always told
That crime doesn't pay, but
On an unbiased inspection of
The world to which these forces
Have given birth, it becomes
More and more apparent
With each passing day,
That not only does crime pay,

But that it is the linchpin,
The essence and Truth; held in
The very highest esteem, and
The foundation, upon which,
Every structure of influence,
Constituting this wretched culture
In whose shadow we all stand,
Is built, and gains stability, but
Which crime pays? For whom?
And for what reasons?

Crash the economy through manipulation and deceit,
Get million dollar bonuses, and taxpayer bailouts.
Because your wealth is of prestige, and
You are the herald of progress,
Not to mention the fact that you
Own the judges and regulators, and
Your bank account is big enough
To bribe anyone you please, but

Resort to theft because,
Your family is hungry,
You go to jail or prison, and
Become a source of cheap labor,
To build products for the same ones
Whose greed crashed the economy,  
In the first place.

Then, when you get out;
You can be sure that the court costs
And legal fees will drive
You even deeper into debt, and
Compel you to offend again, but
It's not systemic; it's your fault
Because the poor are the wretched of the earth,
Who have earned their misfortune,
By means of their own iniquity, and
Thus undeserving of sympathy.

Meanwhile, from birth to death
From womb to tomb, and
From cradle to grave
The narrative is spoon fed, to
Every man, woman and child,
That hard work and
Honest aspiration,
Are the keys to success;
Study hard,
Get good grades,
Follow the rules,
Give it your all, and
Prosperity will become
Your dearest friend.

Yet, John Q. Public
Works for 40 years,
While Congress loots
His social security and pension, and 
Is ultimately  forced to choose between  
Buying this month's medicine, or
Paying this month's rent, once
He finally does retire

Sarah C. Student,
Follows the same path,
Only to live for subsequent decades
In the desert of a new serfdom,
Born of the iron will of finance capital,
Ending with little but a sense of
Betrayal and resentment
To show for all her efforts.

But on the flipside, just across town
Uncle Moneybags is tormented
By his painful choice between
A private jet, or new yacht, and
The prince of Crude Oil-istan,
Frets over which jewels will
Encrust the statue of his likeness,
Neither of them ever having
So much as broken a sweat
In the service of labor,

Now, tell me how it's sane that
We all take this for granted?
Perhaps the specter of democracy
Has led us down a blind alley, of
Illusory choice, counterpoised
Against the despotism of the past, but

Dig a bit deeper and it becomes obvious,
That one tyranny has merely replaced another
In the grander scheme, and so now,
Every 4 years, we march gallantly
To the polls and cast our ballots to vote
On whether we want to die of AIDS,
Or maybe cancer, instead; all while
Pundits stand at their podiums,
Regurgitating the same old worn out,
Platitudes hailing the triumph, of
Our serene and beneficent system, but
  
I wish someone could tell me,
Plainly and honestly:
When the 62 richest own as much
As the 3 billion poorest
Where does it stop?
What is the limit?
How much longer can it continue?
When do we finally decide
That enough is enough?

Like waking from a dream
Waking from the horror of a nightmare
And seeing the beauty of the morning
Seeing the green of an Earth you had never before seen

For I hear our beloved saying to us;
“Arise, shine, for the light has come
The glory of The Lord has risen upon you
Come now my love, awake!
See the winter is past
The rain is over and gone
For Summer has come
Gone is the Winter and its ravages
Here is the Summer and its blessings
The warmth of the sun
The flowers flowing in the meadow
For good has come”
Thus says our Lord

For He has crushed the head of the Serpent
Like the King of Old has slain the giant
And the end of all things has come
The end of separation is arrived
The beginning of new things is here
The founding of the New City
This City was built, established by understanding
The rooms were filled by knowledge
Filled with all precious and good treasures

From the darkness of the night has come light
The sun has broken out with the dawn
And all wounds were healed
And the unrighteous became right
For the nations saw and came to our light
And kings came to the brightness of such light

On this New Earth there is no more pain or destruction
This Earth is full of the knowledge of The Lord
The cow and the bear graze in the field together
Their young lie down with one another
And the lion eats straw like an ox
All the depths of the Earth have risen up
The high points have been made low
The uneven places have been made level
And the rough ground has become a plain
For all things have been made good again
Like the Summer of the Garden, yet better

On this New Earth, roads have been made in the wilderness
And rivers bring water to the once-dry desert
For these new good things are being done
From the old things of nature come the sound of great music
Clapping from the trees of the field,
Songs from the mountains in the distance
From the ground come not thorns, but beautiful flowers

The ancient ruins of the old places have been built up
The cities of former glory have been rebuilt
The devastation of many generations have been healed
No more are we called forsaken
For our Salvation has come
And He has married our land
He has become one with our properties
No longer is our land called ‘Desolate’
But is now called ‘My Delight is in Her’
For His delight has come to us

On the Earth of Old we sold our possessions
We held onto treasures that would not fail
To moneybags that would not grow old
Moneybags that no thief could ever steal
Treasures no moth could ever destroy
And we dwell now with those treasures
As He had promised us before
We now dwell with Him in Paradise
In this paradise unimaginable
For no eye had seen, nor ear had heard
No heart had ever imagined this paradise
This great place God had prepared for us

We have been given one heart
And we have been given one spirit
Our heart of stone has been removed
And we have been gifted a heart of flesh
He bathed us with water
He washed us clean from our bloodstains
And He anointed our heads with oil
He clothed us with fine cloth
Shod us with good leather
He has wrapped us with fine linen
And covered us with precious silk
He sprinkled us with clean water
Cleansed us from unrighteousness
And took us from our idols
He had given us new hearts and new spirits
And His Spirit dwelled in us

We had died before, as He once did
We died, but now live forevermore
He too died once, but lives with us
Now, forevermore

We now dwell in this New Earth
For the first Earth has passed away
And in the New City of Jerusalem
For we are of the Bride for Christ, our Husband
For this New Jerusalem is a dwelling place
A place for us to dwell with God
He dwells with us
And we will be His people
And He will be our God
He has wiped away the tears from all faces
Death is no more, mourning is no more
Crying and pain are no more
Those who thirst have been quenched
Those who hunger have been filled
Those who were blind now see
Those who were deaf now hear
Those who were lame now walk
For the former things have passed away

A great shadow has departed
For everything sad has come untrue
For the voice told us;
“I have made all things new"