playing chess in an old cartoon


Christine Lebeck, Room 1830 Chicago, 2006


Return
-- by Jim Harrison

The sun's warm against the slates of the granary,
a puddle of ice in the shadow of the steps;
a bluetick hound lopes
across the winter wheat --
fresh green, cold green.
The windmill, long out of use,
screetches and twists in the wind.
A spring day too loud for talk
when bones tired of their flesh
and want something better.


Heaven Was Elsewhere
-- by Stuart Dischell

The cities were anonymous
The problems generic
And the people who lived
Out their lives did nothing
Remarkable. Most were
Afraid. They ate and drank.
They had babies or avoided them.
They prayed and kissed and sometimes forgot
Each other in the dark.
They did the basic human thing.
Knowing they would die
Following the leader
While cursing their wages.
(But once you and I did
Something specific, and a couple
Of people saw us later on the street.)


Every Word is a Little City
-- by Mel Nichols

The deep blue velvet suit lady telling
the deep blue velvet suit man
where he cannot pee. The table that divides in half,
dividing in half, in half, my neck dividing in half.
Everything collapsing. Collapsing and swinging.
A table I kicked out of the way, folding.
There was a trashcan, we were told not to pee in it.
The house was a house with you and me in it.
The rain, the rain, the rain was coming in.
Only this time it happened on Thursday instead.
I do take the little blue man.