On the Approval of Mobile Sports Betting in New York State
Do you know what’s needed right now?
At this very moment
in the trough of humanity?
When fentanyl depression fear anxiety
have us in a stranglehold,
when no other equation is taught except for division,
when we keep our kids like pigs in a pen
(primed for the slaughter,
a steel screen cage death
match of pixilated minds,
not grass-fed or roam-free
just good eggs gone rotten
in the Covid safe room?)
What’s obviously needed
at this precipitous moment
is mobile sports betting!
Yes! Yes! Yes!
A gamble on our very souls!
An injection of excitement into the lifeless
(hormones in the milk
of our collective minds)
by the New York State Gaming Commission,
the fat king of the Capitol,
feeding his limitless hunger
on his limited land, on the isolated
man in his green recliner and
on the grandmother at the formica
counter and of course
feeding on the children
of the state who
are always always
given in tribute.
Yes! Gosh, what an incredible idea!
In this time of addiction and under-
age drinking vaping drugs despair,
this is the time for the vampire bats
to emerge from the cave,
the cash cow is waiting!
(It must be admitted that
about this time, Drs.
Murthy & Beers did try to say something —
I saw them on the sidelines
their mouths in moving Os —
but at that point the wind
was howling, the sky
was bitter, we were deep
in the shit storm. The thing
to do was wait it out,
entertain ourselves,
the obvious answer
to bet it all
on the Bills.)
But let’s get back to the innocent,
the men the women the children —
all the children,
every last child,
the very calf itself,
whether sacred or sacrificial,
surely it will emerge
out of the desert
of this horror
like Moses before
Caesar’s Palace.
I mean the Promised Land.
