BY THE BOOK
blundered into something:
a game of intransigence
two clocks
playing chess against each other
too early
in the showdown
for any
nuclear option
both
imagining playing
by the book
still
an infinite supply of pawns




BY THE BOOK
blundered into something:
a game of intransigence
two clocks
playing chess against each other
too early
in the showdown
for any
nuclear option
both
imagining playing
by the book
still
an infinite supply of pawns




FIGURES
figures
were fashioned
no sooner so
than they produced
brutal beauty
an angular ballet across
a square battlefield
the mind stretched to its limit
to master
have complete power over
surrogate for war itself
and yet still the shock
and
sharp self-
recognition
in defeat
figures were fashioned
you could spend a lifetime
exploring, imagining
that entire
little universe that
accrues to them
AND CRAZED CHESS GRANDMASTERS
Nabokov, Nabokov,
there are
Lolitas in the room
and crazed
chess grand masters
who, to this very day,
gave never found themselves
in zugtwang
and
know every opening
backwards
but
the clocks are ready and
all will
commence
perhaps the greatest sequence
of sacrifices ever
to force mate
perhaps it would have been me
in an immortal game
who knows how many times
before
the move was there and
I failed to
see it

QUEEN
You were
so well
camouflaged
on your square
(white on
white
or was it
black
on black?)
I thought you
were empty but
you were
full of yourself
sequin sultry and silk deadly
decidedly daggered
every inch a queen.
MARS
Ah, Mars
you red-eyed god
of grain
and guns
here on the farm I smell
your secret cordite,
perpetual war
concord, discord
forever
in battle
circle of being, conflict
of life
the trees, the corn
all
akin to spears
as they stand in phalynx
tall and proud
except
that is not it
at all
this is the shape of thinking,
seeing that you bring
reducing to raw red, rampant
green, crude
primary
colours and basic shades
as if it were all one
monochrome chess
games
with its millions of moves
and permutations
light and dark on
opposite sides of the board
split from each other
drawn up in opposition
files and ranks
a most
feudal arrangement
STOCKFISH
my pieces do not flow
they are all
nut
and bolt
whilst the Stockfish pieces
swarm to devour
attack like piranhas
strip my defence down
to bare bones
there’s blood
in the water though you cannot
see it
Oh, that one day my
chess brain might
be Achilles and his Myrmidons
so brutally fleet
and adept
at butchering
slaughter without mercy
and then we shall find
out exactly what you
are made of
my artificially intelligent friend
UNBOXED
chess:
so many games played
never
a masterpiece
moves missed (many,
many)
victory
falling by the wayside
and so
I do not succumb to
the joy of a world
of sheer
possibility
where every thought
of genius
lies the far side of a
blunder simply
begging to be
blunders of the kind
you can no way redeem
but here I am
sweating my way on
supposed improvement
trajectory
puzzle after puzzle:
mate in five, four,
three, two
find the best move
now plodding through
with each opportunity grasped
tiny chess revelation
this box-like wonder of a
a perfectly square game
all
blocking, line and
angle
divulging the logos
of its beauty,
glimpse of mystical infinity
unpackages the light
takes
me heart and soul