Chess is a game

 

Chess is a game

(For M.) 

(a mere poem following on from the Modern 'Blackbirding' piece which no one seemed very interested in)

 

I’m the wrong kind of white

& you’re the wrong kind of black

Said one pawn to another

No one cares what we think

Or whether the game is fixed

Who’s gonna be interested enough

To agitate for change

The officer class far from the front lines?

What would they gain from it

We live in an age of self interest

& we can only do one kind of black at a time

& it sure as hell won’t be a pawn

Maybe a bishop would get a write up

But ours is an atheist’s age

Maybe a knight

But the animal cruelty people have poo-pooed horse riders

A king & a queen might have a chance

But that’s always mere gossip

Anyway they’re already rich

Though nowhere near as powerful as corporations

Leaving only the rook

Real estate is where it’s at

Property

The only piece worth writing about

Is an inanimate object

& I am the wrong kind of white to write it

No one will publish me

I’m too damaged

Too crazy with PTSD

I'm too wild

& can only move one space at a time

Sure the first move is two

& there’s the theoretical potential for me to be a queen

But I die in the process

Like poor old Diana

The same goes for you my old friend

You are the wrong kind of black to be written about

You’ll have to find a rich benefactor

But then you’ll have to betray your people

& play the self interest game like Snoop

It’s every piece for itself these days

& chess is not a game of one side against another

It’s a game of protect the rich

& screw the rest

& if one pawn makes it through the game

Then that’s the pin up carrot

To advertise the capitalist myth to the pawn class

To keep them docile

Who in some games

May dress in interesting patterns

But still they’ll be pawns

One move at a time

Sacrificed to keep the rich protected

You’re the wrong kind of black

& I’m the wrong kind of white

 

 

Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.