To slide back in the mix—
I need one good hit,
a tip sheet from Bacchus.
a horse that smells
like fire and bourbon,
early lick in its veins,
more heart than
Joe Louis,
more grit than
LaMotta in a smoke-filled ring,
more power than Marciano.
I need the odds
blinking my way from the tote board,
eight to one or better,
and the racing gods
to glance down
through the Hollywood Park clouds
and wink.
Just six furlongs,
one round of thunder,
and then—
I’m back.
Back in the roar
of the track,
the clatter of hooves
and the smell of dirt,
degenerates and dwarves,
painted-up whores,
hot dogs, spilled beer,
pick-up lines flying,
and the blazing neon,
neon lights bleeding
like a saxophone solo
out of a tavern door.
One twisted blessing,
one break,
one flash of luck,
snatched from the fucking gutters,
and I’m alive—back in it,
in the crowd, in the chaos and clamor,
in the smell of sweat and mustard,
with a scrape of discarded lottery tickets
and pennies from a Vons parking lot
that don’t belong to anyone
but me,
the taste of victory,
sweet and bitter,
on the roof of my mouth.
The track buzzes underfoot,
the horses’ hooves still ringing,
my dad’s gruff voice
and my little brother’s laugh
etched in the caverns of my mind,
and for one small, perfect home stretch,
I’m back in the game.
The private symphony of Providence
flowing through my veins,
every nerve pulsing, vivid,
and every shadow… grinning…
like it knows… the at-the-wire surge.
-
Author:
Thomas W Case (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: January 6th, 2026 07:56
- Comment from author about the poem: Thank you for stopping by. I just posted a new long-form video reading from Aluminum Cowboys, along with a few gritty vignettes I wrote recently. You can watch it here: https://youtu.be/QzS2hIl5HOU If you’re interested, Aluminum Cowboys: Poems and Short Stories and my other recently published books are available on Amazon. Thanks for reading, watching, and supporting the work. — Thomas W. Case
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 18
- Users favorite of this poem: aDarkerMind, Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments7
Thomas this one brings to life that eternal hope that we all have that next time will be the winner. The reason people by lotto, bet on the races, play the stock market go to Vegas. It is hopeful and one can not bring oneself to pop that bubble knowing that the house always wins and that the game is rigged. A lovely write that leaves a sad feeling for the millions that live on dreams.
Thank you, my friend.
Most welcome Thomas
a powerful write.
Thanks
loved every line Thomas...as always.
a class act my friend.
an outstanding write, and in my opinion, one of your best;
Thank you, my friend.
Enjoyed. We all think that 'Maybe the next time' things will improve. New year and never do.
If only Rod Serling was in the corner predicting a Change of Fortune.
Thankyou.
As the bookies say, you've not actually won, I have just borrowed you money which you will then repay in kind when you come back.
Mind you, if I get a lucky dip in the lottery, I feel like a winner. Okay, this 50 to 1 shot looks a goodie, Speed of light, it's talking to me.
I appreciate it.
Thomas, this grabbed me immediately. It’s hungry, loud, and alive with risk. The pulse never lets up, and that desperation feels earned. A fierce, visceral ride. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Much appreciated.
you bring to mind the few races i attended with my husband - a descriptive piece...
Thank you.
welcome
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