spotted, greasy, worn.
When dealing out, they stick,
because the edges ruffle
and the six of spades is torn.
I could replace them with a brand new deck
that cleanly glides from fingertip to table,
every card so neat and quick
pristine from ace to deuce,
far easier to shuffle
than these persnickity old frumps.
Maybe with such newness I’d be able
to prevail at solitaire.
But no, they suit me, these old stubs,
and besides, that diamond jack
has got me in his stare.
Every king an upstart,
and that pesky ace of clubs
sports a major flyspeck.
The rest are double dealing hacks.
Nonetheless they’ve trumped my heart---
and will always play me fair.