The Palace

Katie B.

On Sundays we go to the casino

The Palace, in God’s country

 

Just off exit fifty-two in Knoxville, Alabama

It’s stark, palatial presence abrupt

 

Out of place amongst cinder block

Buildings, weathered fence posts, pastures

 

My husband disperses twenties

The quest for unearned funds begins

 

Slots as bright as the risen sun

Sensory, sensory, sensory

 

Lights flashing, blinking, pulsing

Music, buzzers, beeps

 

All captivating, compulsory

Hyper fixated

 

Funds relinquished

Daring chance to produce

 

  • Author: Katie B. (Offline Offline)
  • Published: May 20th, 2026 01:53
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 5
  • Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15
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Comments +

Comments2

  • sorenbarrett

    Gambling in one form or another part of life itself. Why states make it illegal while offering state lotteries and endorsing insurance (the big time gamble where one bets against oneself) A fun read Katie

  • arqios

    Quite an adventure that was one could gather in the reading🙏🏻🕊️



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