Getting in the Game

For days he watched
the water taxis
come and go
across the shallow bay

Life was like chess
he thought. Each possibility
precluded many others
until few options remained

Finally, he set out
In his own leaky vessel
Landing on the far shore
and finding the trains not running

he spent his days walking the streets
buying art in back alleys, eating like
a high caste mandarin and watching
Chinese lap dances for the dead

2 responses to “Getting in the Game

  1. This is a curious poem; it’s strangely arresting.


    • Thanks john. This was one of those poems where two ideas formed a “monstrous alliance” as William stafford would say. I’ll take “strangely arresting” any day.


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