<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" standalone="yes"?><oembed><version><![CDATA[1.0]]></version><provider_name><![CDATA[The Dish]]></provider_name><provider_url><![CDATA[http://dish.andrewsullivan.com]]></provider_url><author_name><![CDATA[Andrew Sullivan]]></author_name><author_url><![CDATA[https://dish.andrewsullivan.com/author/sullydish/]]></author_url><title><![CDATA[A Poem For&nbsp;Saturday]]></title><type><![CDATA[link]]></type><html><![CDATA[<p>&quot;The Bukowski in You&quot; by Joel Dias-Porter:</p> <p><iframe frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/YrlmJ8AsgPk" width="515"></iframe></p> <p>The last lines of the poem:</p> <blockquote> <p>You’re addicted to<br />knowing the cards love<br />no one<br />but the last hands<br />to hold them.<br />Is there anything<br />sexier than<br />putting it all-in and<br />having the moment<br />Morse code thru your veins?<br />Anything sexier<br />than the way<br />desperation’s dress<br />hugs her hips?<br />That’s why you return,<br />why you tease your chair<br />to the table’s edge<br />and post a blind bet,<br />why you peel the corner<br />of your hole cards<br />like they&#39;re prosperity’s<br />last pair<br />of good panties.</p> </blockquote> <p>Jeffrey McDaniel <a href="http://www.poetryfoundation.org/article/243666" target="_self">hung out</a> with Dias-Porter, also known as DJ Renegade, at one of the casinos where he now works and lives:</p> <blockquote> <p>&quot;Technically I’m homeless, but I stay in four-star hotels every night,&quot; he laughs.&#0160;</p> </blockquote>]]></html></oembed>