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 – firstname.lastname@example.org – and provide your e-mail.)