Gambler lyrics

by

Carol Ann Duffy


She goes for the sound of the words, the beauty they hold
in the movement they make on the air, the shape
of the breath of a word leaving her lips like a whistle

or kiss. So Hyperion's tips mean nothing to her, the form,
the favourites, whether the going is heavy or firm,
the horse a stinker or first time blinkered. It's words

she picks, names she ticks. That day it was Level Headed
at 10-1, two syllables each to balance the musical chime
of lev and head, the echoing el. She backed it to win

and then on a whim went for Indian Nectar at 7-2
to come in next. Indiannectar. Indiannectar. She stood
in a trance at the counter, singing it over and over

again in her head which was why, she guessed, she decided
to pick Sharp Spice (5-2 fav) to gallop in third - the words
seemed to fit. Most days she sits with her stump of a pen

writing the poems of bets. And how can she lose? Just listen
to some of the names that she didn't choose - Heiress of Meath,
Springfieldsupreme, Mavis, Shush, Birth of the Blues.
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