The Dice Maker

by Paul Tristram / November 4th, 2018

Thumb and forefinger smooth…
he carves each cube
from bone.
Slivers corners,
delicately,
with teeth…
into an almost
impossible perfection.
Ace, deuce, trey, cater, cinque,
pips he digs out,
headache-carefully…
with an old hairpin
handed-down
from Rosie Silver-Palm,
his Great Grandmother,
the once famous
Mumbles Mile
Crystal Ball and Tealeaf Reader,
before blackening them
with England’s Glory matches.
Then carries them around
in his pockets
for exactly eight months.
Constantly rubbing them
with craftsman’s hands
and hyperactive bent
until they’re absolutely perfect…
then barters them away
for a single meat and beer supper.

Paul Tristram is a widely published Welsh writer who deals in the Lowlife, Outsider, and Outlaw genres.  He wrote his first poem as a teenager following his release from the (Infamous) Borstal ‘HMP Portland’, and he has been creating Literary Terrorism ever since. Read other articles by Paul, or visit Paul's website.

This article was posted on Sunday, November 4th, 2018 at 8:03am and is filed under Poetry.