Why, international chess master,
why all magistrate ingenuity wasted on a puzzling game?
What with the black king, what with the white,
what secret passion with the duo femme on the board roaming upright?
Some pusillanimity, perhaps?
of guns on bruised shoulders?
of chemicals and tubes?
of mice in a maze?
Who made the choice for you, genius, your dad? your mummy? a family doc?
a reputation paedomorphic haste?
your neighbourly mentor?
You and your kin,
so many thousands of years accusing Napoleon for fighting within self,
over and above trapeziums, against any polis, to boast that,
Black and White World Wars a, b, c, d, e, in ancient China
and then f, g, h, i, j, k l, m, n, o, p on plastic chairs,
all concluded in theoretical massacre.
A bless, Bobby, you would have said, yet,
So many giant- and nano-inventions not even thought of in time, or at all,
so much medicine in nature or in chemical combinations hidden in oblivion rivers,
not tested to save us from the viruses ever upcoming,
so many thoughts of Philosophy and Reason just to deny divine-like treason,
unborn of idle gins.
A bless, Bobby, you would have said, yet,
In your eyes Twin Towers were born and buried of two Queen Mothers,
a Jewish and a Settler,
so happy you were of their grief,
the pieces you shuffled on the board to commence Wars in medias res[1]and win still,
to show how you started your life just before the end,
as you renounced your USAan citizenship for the sake of the world,
as you renounced your sciento-perspective
for the sake of some Theatrical Paradox of Life and Dogs on Squares.
“Crush their mind”, Chicago 0 – 1 Reykjavik.
why all magistrate ingenuity wasted on a puzzling game?
What with the black king, what with the white,
what secret passion with the duo femme on the board roaming upright?
Some pusillanimity, perhaps?
of guns on bruised shoulders?
of chemicals and tubes?
of mice in a maze?
Who made the choice for you, genius, your dad? your mummy? a family doc?
a reputation paedomorphic haste?
your neighbourly mentor?
You and your kin,
so many thousands of years accusing Napoleon for fighting within self,
over and above trapeziums, against any polis, to boast that,
Black and White World Wars a, b, c, d, e, in ancient China
and then f, g, h, i, j, k l, m, n, o, p on plastic chairs,
all concluded in theoretical massacre.
A bless, Bobby, you would have said, yet,
So many giant- and nano-inventions not even thought of in time, or at all,
so much medicine in nature or in chemical combinations hidden in oblivion rivers,
not tested to save us from the viruses ever upcoming,
so many thoughts of Philosophy and Reason just to deny divine-like treason,
unborn of idle gins.
A bless, Bobby, you would have said, yet,
In your eyes Twin Towers were born and buried of two Queen Mothers,
a Jewish and a Settler,
so happy you were of their grief,
the pieces you shuffled on the board to commence Wars in medias res[1]and win still,
to show how you started your life just before the end,
as you renounced your USAan citizenship for the sake of the world,
as you renounced your sciento-perspective
for the sake of some Theatrical Paradox of Life and Dogs on Squares.
“Crush their mind”, Chicago 0 – 1 Reykjavik.
[1] From Horace. Refers to the literary technique of beginning a narrative in the middle of, or at a late point in, the story, after much action has already taken place. (http://en.wikipedia.org/)
© Christos P.R. Tsiailis
