Sunday, March 18, 2012

Chess with the Man of the Field

Market day in Cheltenham
The shadows of the Schloss
Your favorite song
Comes from your hand
And the glint of glass
As you raise the phone

How do these moments compare
To the dirt road behind the school
That somehow comes unbidden
Or is the memory the thought
The understanding of the scene

Now it is just the strategy I’ll use
In a field of squares
Traced by strings
Dropped from above
Then we’ll stand around
Like mechanics
Told to “Irish up” a Volvo

国王的游  The game of kings
没有国    Without kings
在棋隧道  The board tunnels
无情的  Ruthless rules

Each piece is made of the past
But is the same true of the rules
We’ll maneuver tin cans and gravel
Inside drain pipes
And the wisps of smoke
That surround the vendors
Will time our moves

An often respite
Of reckless endeavor
And the ceremonial now

No comments:

Post a Comment