poem

 A Nice Game of ChessIt ’s a game of chess, life.We each get a square.You ’re my Queen.You can do anythingBut it ’s a lawless gamePlayed according to strict tradition So it doesn ’t even matter.You do whatever you likeAnd we say,them ’s the rules.Everyone feignsThey forget how to play —It ' s now two hands below the waist.Pieces are recognizable but different.Knights move in rococo Q ' s instead of L ’s.The bishops are huddled in conclaveIn the corners getting readyTo release a plume of black smoke.Kings pretend to be pawnsSo they don ’t get eaten.There is no nuance When all the worldIs either black or white.I play for a drawNot because I ’m a cowardI ’m just bored with it, the game, all of it—Somebody wins, somebody loses,Blah blah blah.I ’m not interested in winning anymoreAnd losing just sucks. Stalemate is genius —Backing yourself into a positionOf forced paralysis where You can ’t even try to winAnd it ’s impossible to lose.The best endgame is to drawBy threefold repetition.I started it all,Getting us into this configurationBut now it ’s up to you.You get to choose —Either nobody winsOr we keep dancing,This same pointless pattern,Check, check, check, check,Just you and meTrying to keep our game going For the rest of eternity1/23/24

Source: Buckeye Surgeon - January 23, 2024 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs