Here, he says,
are the top ten guitarists
of all time — 
right before trotting out
the same damn list
he has used for this argument
since 1977.
No one since 1977
has played the guitar 
well enough to be included,
dontcha know — 

or was it 1967,
surely no later
than 1987?

No matter the year he chooses
it ended back then,
music did. 
It’s never been the same
since then,
dontcha know. Surely 
you know. It’s fucking
obvious or it ought to be.

He has been scolding 
since 1977 
about
the only right way
to play
the only right
brand of guitar,
the one he used to play
when he used to play. 

He’s been talking for years
about how to sing with
just a tinge of blue-white
to the voice
so it sounds darker, 
but most assuredly
not too dark — 
the better, he winks,
to get
the ladies,
dontcha know.

Here are the top ten
riffs of all time. 
Here are the top ten
fingerings of all time.
Here are the top ten
solos of all time.

Here are the top ten
commercial jingles of all time. 

Here are the top ten
imprisonments. 

The top ten screams. 

The top ten numbers
of all time. 

Keep the lists
short and old, 
dontcha know.
Keep the lists trim.

Keep your list,
I’ve got the only one
I need. 

I’m not long for this,
thank God,
dontcha know.

I’m too full of fear.
Don’t make me
count higher.