Poetry

from milliliters
to drips
to puddles, streams, and ponds
lakes, springs, rivers, and seas
ice and fog and cloud and rain
steam, sweat, and tears

i am a set of molecules
conceived only who knows how?
a consumer of myself
a circle bound to its radius
i follow the flow
bearing the gift
of a quenching sip
i get up and walk
swim the deep
sail the sky
burrow into the earth

i am root
i am leaf
i am hoof
i am wing
i am scale
i am fur
i am me
i am you
you are me
you are you

you are the reflection in a puddle
i am the damp on your cheek
your eyes see faces in the clouds
i drizzle

we are ripples
we are waves
we are snow
we are hail

we are one in the timeless sea

but i will always remember you
by the way i see you now

just another drop in the bucket
splashing around.

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too philosophical with my bishop, again
my opponent overwhelms me with his rooks
in football, the term is “obvious pain”
in love, it could be called a “mortal wound”
in war, i guess they call it “checkmate”
it’s a game gentlemen play
gentlemen from Mars
bearing the seal
of the Great State of Confusion
flying the banner of the Order

draw up lines—choose sides
decide what’s right and wrong for the other guy
validate cheating
set rewards for dealing
from the bottom of the deck
now shake hands
act like friends

this game doesn’t concern the peasantry
they’re still peasants
and there are more now than ever

now is a good time for a war
the football season is almost over
murder the pawns, bishops, rooks, and running backs
hang the queen
guillotine her knights in shining armored personnel carriers
draw and quarter the quarterback off in a stretcher

stalemate—shell shocked—reset the board

black or white?

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