MARKED PLAYING CARDS

I took my TV and bass fiddle to the pawnshop.
Then I had my car stolen and everything in it.
This morning I'm down to a windbreaker and house
slippers,
But I feel cheerful, even though it's snowing.
This proves she loves me, I said to the crowd
Waiting for the bus. They were afraid to look my way.

I let myself be reduced to rags, I explained.
I marked playing cards to cheat against myself.
All my life I kept raising the stakes, knowing
That each new loss assured me of her complete love.
(The bus was late, so they had to hear the rest.)
I told them that I never met her, but that I was certain
She has a premonition of my existence,
As I do of hers. Perhaps this is the moment
She comes along and recognizes me standing here?

Because my mind was busy with our first kiss,
I didn't hear the bus arrive and leave.
High over the roofs, the sky was already clearing.
I still had the greasy cards in my pocket.
With my bad luck, I surmised, she was due by nightfall.
Shuffling through the snow and shivering,
I was ready to bet the rest of my clothes on her.