Tres Puntos

He was long and thin like wire
Always in a blue suit and briefcase;
Like a kid skirting the wake
A hysterical woman, and hunger.

He played like an ox and his misfortune
Reflected in the shine of his suit
It dragged him back from the brokerage
To leave the money at the pharmacy.

What happened next was unexpected
One Sunday night, already tired,
He decided they should all go together
He turned on the gas, locked the door

And on the table remained like a clue
The betting slip with three points.