Coffee/Chess

2 carajillos on a corner table

one baileys, one brandy

You play white, move first

the smoke extends, over the table

at our backs a girl bitches about her girlfriend

to a girlfiend, and a waiter drops a tray

with a clatter that seems to affect

the course of the smoke that courses

upwards from an ashtray.

You move first, attacking with talk of moving forward

your pawns arranged in a piercing v

a native american arrowhead

i move black to distract you

opening up your back line,

With a flick of the eyes down and to the side

you notice and swiftly counter

moving pieces to protect and the war starts

on two fronts.

"she's mixed up, ill in the head"

the girl behind explains and her friend

ashamed, plays confidant

unwilling to enrage

We play till late, the coffee drained

the lines blurred, fingers blood stained

From fallen knights and gallant acts of

strategic self-sacrifice.

Until the game stalemates,

without an end, our fingers locked

black and white across the table

A glance betrays the two glasses

empty save for flecks of coffee foam

Identical in all except the memory

of what they once contained.

Foto: Ari Marcopolous