NaPoWriMo 4/9

House Always Wins

Even shrouded in cigar smoke

and wide ties,

I would bet—as I ought to, here—

that these floors never had the allure

of freshly-invented neon lights

and big band glitz.

I worried I would be underdressed

in that trailer park pit

jumping –ding!- with each arm pull

the promising whir,

the lack of cheery screams.

I ducked in case of falling chips

or so as not be seen—

I needn’t have worried.

There’s nothing behind this curtain.