stained board with indian
black perimeters
a confined checkered
alphabet calculator that
notates elegent moves
while the banished
clock ticks away
laboring french pions marching
lowly but steadily
one step at a time
frustrated cavalry knights
jump over rook walls 'jump' not 'jumps'
side stepping
crooked abbey bishops
the strategem plot concluding
the king finds his queen
saying
for God's sake I toppled 'God's' with an apostrophe
the whole flat booted world
submit i say my lady
the courtesan queen smiles
checkmate my lord
you are on your own
Napoleon abruptly leaving the
table to stroll the Alba beaches
thinking how Josephine warms up
to a other player...
thinking waterloo nullifies everything
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem