checkers have been solved
and i don't exaggerate when saying
that my life has been a waste

i sit behind an empty board
and ponder the astronomically complex shape
of the key that opened the gate to oblivion

the battlefield has forgotten its bloody past
and now only fresh clean undamaged chess pieces
stand on it, spread out, looking proper and polite

i pretend to take it all in stride when my upstairs neighbor
comes down and says: "up for some beer and chess, old buddy?"
if i was a stronger man i'd break him, and play checkers with his children,
some of which i am the father of

i walk over to the freezer and pour a glass of vodka
i think about the woman that i love and laugh out loud,
collapsing back onto the couch, to start another game of checkers anyway