O 69

she told me that
on friday nights
she was a volunteer
who called out
the numbers
for bingo at
the local firehouse.
the patrons arrived
in buses, from
the rest homes,
the senior living
communties, the
assisted care
facilities. all for
bingo. old, and
beaten, tired, and
dishevled, some
as poor as church
mice. in wheel chairs
and walkers, and yet.
bingo stirred their blood.
and when the moment
randomly came,
when my friend yelled
out O 69, in unison
the crowd shouted,
oooooh sixty nine,
and they all laughed
and coughed together
over their cards.
they weren't dead yet.