Except when I use an American dollar bill –
What else is it really good for? –
I use jokers and aces as bookmarks,
Counting off the pages, the ideas, the ranting observations;
Jokers cutting page after page of mad reality
Set down by poets: Wordsworth. Purdy. Blake. Solie.
The Ace of Spades walking with me among the philosophers:
Spinoza. Neitzche. Wittgenstein. Dewey.
And I wryly consider what Lemmy made of some of this stuff.
He died about a year ago. Most of the others died before.
Lemmy’s gravel-voiced, call-a-Spade-an-Ace-of-Spades philosophy was
I don’t share your greed. I don’t want to live forever.
With a bullet belt and Fast Eddie’s poncho, I’m irremediably reminded of
The Good, the Bad and the Ugly and thence to Heidegger; an immortal Stratocaster line
Shredding like a Barebones FZX750 searching for another gear.
Shut up, you talk too loud.