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All in a Day's Work
Pawn to King Four. A standard opening
a nonchalant iambic hop, finger on clock
eyes raised cat-like at the moon
or skip-jump nimble-pawed to the
next simultaneous board, a quick succession
of soft-syllable jumps, finger again on clock
nimble-toed repetition, not yet grand master
poetry but developing, thinking of snakes
and ladders, one small step for cat-kind
At the next table an old octopus sneers
from his watery bifocals, cigar in one tentacle
glass of blended ink in another, he tries to
answer Felix: Knight takes Bishop as
en passant a drop of whiskey falls between
the black and white soldiers sidelined
into spectatorship. Check. With an artful
tentacle-entwined clock punch
one small stab for Octopussy – on to table 007
Now Felix, too fast to figure out his jeer
returning agile-ever from table 49
glancing not at Humphrey Bogart, he extracts
a tiny hypodermic from back pocket, squirts
old smoky-face between the eyes and while
he’s flailing for a handkerchief, whips his
queen across the diagonal. Check and check
again. Check mate. Thank you Bobby sorry
Boris, punch clock one last time, free verse
Felix grins his alliteration-loaded feline grin
One small step for cat-kind, nimble-pawed
grand master. All in a day’s work
© Johnmichael Simon
2012
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