Most times, gambling is not a game of chance, it’s a scam, and oftentimes it becomes a relentless pursuit to win back what’s been lost, usually an unattainable goal.

Trying to break even is like committing suicide, but you don’t die. The quest to break even, of recovering what’s been lost, flushed down the drain at the Black Jack tables or by a one-armed bandit—can turn swiftly dark and tragic.

 Indeed, It starts innocently enough: a modest bet here, a big win there. But once the losses begin to mount up, the gambler faces down a critical decision: To step back from the brink and cut their losses, or to give in to the temptation, and try to "win it all back."

The atmospheric pressure, flashing lights, the free flow of strong whiskey, and of course, the blasting of upbeat music in casinos create an environment where time and money seem inconsequential.

Poet Dennis J Bernstein said about the deck, “The short sharp poems in A Gambler’s Blade grow right out of my own childhood. They are screams and howls from a loser who had lost control. My father, George M—the M standing for “money bags” he never had. His father, the late Max M. Bernstein, a roaring 20’s fur tycoon, lost it all in the 1929 crash, but not before Daddy-o, the boss’ eldest son, cut a luxurious and legendary eleven-mink stole for the exalted starlet Mae West. I believe my father gambled away most of his life, trying to win back what Max lost in the crash.” 

Artist and photographer Jeffrey Spahr-Summers said about the poems and the work in collaboration with Bernstein, “I believe in the power of collaborative art, particularly when the project serves to help or inform people in need, such as A Gambler’s Blade. Dennis J Bernstein’s poetry on gambling and gambling addiction, presented with manipulated, colorful photography, is a powerful combination.”