The Game

For 13 years, we played every Wednesday.
Low stakes, dealer’s choice,
Lots of wild cards.
Royal flushes would tie for high.

10 years ago Harold joined the game
He added something;
Off-the-wall bets, occasional business calls,
And.. complaints about uncomfortable chairs.

Every week, for 10 years Harold shook hands,
Spoke of the politics of the day,
Complained about the room temperature.
Every week, for 10 years.

6 or 7 men took turns hosting,
Breaking for bagels at 8,
Game over at 10:30.
It lived somewhere between religion and tradition.

Jay set the rules.
Tired of Harold’s eccentricities Jay added a new rule.
Harold, was disinvited to the game,
Via a phone call.

Later, 4 players said they hadn’t realized
What Jay was doing,
But none called for reconsideration.
10 years and done.

Like mine, Harold’s world
Is not built upon fortune cookies,
But there are givens, many not articulated,
Including the constancy of friends

Past the anger lies the humiliation.
Beyond that is the annihilation.
“They don’t want me in their fucking game” becomes
“They don’t want me”.