Poker with the Curies

Poker with the Curies (2004)

I call. He folds
but she smoothes her apron
and fingers the test tube
brimming with isotopes in
her pocket. She smiles. I like
the pretty blue-green light
she says. I nod breathing
with lungs of lead inside my safe
suit and boots. Your play, Madame
I say with stacked deck confidence
knowing she wears nothing up her
sleeves but chemical burns. She has
no chips either having donated both
to the war effort so she bluffs
--standing in her bare shed
--seeing what no one else can see.