Chess?  Seth she.

Rhetoric only, knowing I

- that is the one game in the whole universe

that I can’t resist.

Besides spinning spells with words

making mud-pies with mind-stuff…

 

 

So we set ourselves down

as we have since she was two

to mind-spar

- that infant and ancient I.

 

that you could see that I don’t see.. etc

 

She nods her head sagely

all nine years of it

and moves the knight nevertheless;

perfectly aware of my weak spot

(mars wedded furiously to a sun-god “in fall”

- I mean, what sort of a paramour is that?)

while losing sight of her own one

- which I did not of! -

(Neptune squaring moon

- she underestimates me!)

And so we play the royal game

equally armoured with each others policies and motives

for all the discrepancy in size!

There’s plenty of inbuilt room for chance and risk

for pride and patience too.

 

How could you be so silly? announces baby

pocketing a pawn

with the asperity of her Virgo moon, humourless.

Snotty-nosed little  brat! retorts muvver’s Sagittarian one

Its far harder to win at losing….etc

the soap-box stuff getting under way

 meanwhile - moving fast

nonchalant, throwing down the glove.

 

And so the tacticians, the strategists evolve, revolve;

minds entangle, touch, feint, test, retreat.

One needs no analyst here - not even a horoscope!

to meet oneself or the other.

Just a chess set

and some Time.

 

 

 

June 1988