A Knave

 

Another deal and I’ve lost count of how many times that Jack of Spades has been flipped;

to think that playing solitaire to beyond midnight might bring answers is sheer lunacy.

Better a set of Tarot cards or a Ouija board, or casting down bones out across the table,

for I am dazed watching the cards fall – that is until I see (again) that one-eyed knave –

regal, yet sinister, knowingly glaring into the future and all that can and will be.

 

There is a great quote by Vonnegut, “If you can do a half-ass job of anything,

you’re a one-eyed man in the kingdom of the blind,” and, so it goes, according to K.V.

Here, overturned realities stare back at me, framed in yellow light and long shadows;

but one truth’s been ushered in with the ticking of the mantle clock:  we cannot foresee

the promises of dawn; we’re simply to shuffle, deal a hand, and play the cards or fold.

 

— Chris George

(Through the summer months I wrote 10 poems that are compiled under the title: Almonte and the summer of 2013 that was.  If you are interested in receiving this compilation, connect with me – chrisg.george@gmail.com – and provide your e-mail.)

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