The Month of Death 2016

Posted by jdhBard | Posted in Poetry | Posted on 21-01-2016

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Rickman: Hey David.

Bowie: Alan? You too? What took you down?

Rickman: Cancer. You?

Bowie: Me too. Fuck Cancer.

Rickman: Fuck Cancer. With a spoon.

Lemmy: Fuck Cancer!

Rickman: Who’s that guy?

Lemmy: I thought this was the rock star section. They let just anyone in here?

Bowie: Apparently. I’m been searching for Crosby, but I haven’t had much luck.

Lemmy: David Crosby’s dead too?!?

Bowie: No, no… Bing Crosby. Before your time. Before my time, really, if truth be told.

Rickman: I can play the cello…

Lemmy: No you can’t. You’re an actor. You can act like you play the cello. I saw Truly, Madly, Deeply wise-ass.

Rickman: … Asshole.

Bowie: So what do we do now?

Lemmy: We could jam. Maybe actor-boy could learn how to play the spoons.

Angelil: Salut les boys.

Rickman: Who the fuck are you?

Angelil: Calisse… I’m Rene. If there’s one thing I knew how to do in the old life is spot talent early on, and I mean *early* on. Stick with me les gars and we will rock this place.

Original piece written by JD Hickey
January 2016

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