DUNES REVIEW

Fall 2017 (Volume 21, Issue I)

REBECCA OET

ENDGAME TACTICS

 

I grabbed my father

 from a city of fathers,

snatched

 his cow-leather hands.

 

There’s a skeleton face sticker,

 winking at me from the ceiling.

Between the curtains the

 air is smudged.

 

His head is hazard and light,

 looking up at the turquoise moon.

 

Have I prisoned him in layers of chessboards?

 Pawns are flying, the rooks have vanished,

 and it seems the queen has

lost her crown.

 

Tiptoeing into a haze

 of limping eyelids,

 have I condemned him?

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