Uncle Tommy
showed up
in a different Cadillac
each Fourth of July.
His voice was
a rock slide.
He smoked Winstons
and drank beer.
He came down
from Chicago,
and said Arkansas
summers were
too hot to fuck.
When he taught
us to play poker
I was 9 years old
and I wanted
to be him.
Years later
I went to work
for him
up North
and we drank
at a bar owned
by a Greek
named Sam.
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