I was never taught how to play
chess. At seven, I watched

my uncle position-play his friends
after his Amway presentations.

Dimensions of strategy, stretching
my mind six moves ahead

with pyramid impact, knotted
in my memory. I learned

most people I knew repeated
movements, chess pieces

within safe parameters, recurring
pawns and rooks, looped

by a yarn of life’s conditions,
compelled by fear, failure—running

when others were running
without hearing the gunshots

others heard at a Miami Bass
concert. A girl is laughing,

loving a boy in our high school
locker room—a train of six

boys follows. I blend
hidden against a dark corner.