Looking in
my father’s open briefcase
The
typical fare is found
Some
anonymous papers
Collected
in unremarkable manila folders
His
mysterious leather wallet
That
I avoided examining closely
Some
weight of responsibility
Signaled
through the slightest touch
Something
I wasn’t ready for
Then there
was a book
I used to
look at it often
For
extended moments
Repeat the
title in my head
Think on
it for hours
Sure it
was forbidden
Lately my dad had begun
To teach
me a new game
Of
ancient origin
And has invited
me into the group
The
brotherhood of backgammon
Vogue game
of the business professional
Resurgent in
the mid-70s of my youth
I loved
playing the game
Partly for
the company
Partly
because I could win
There’s
not much for a young boy
To best
his father at
He could
run faster
Talk
better
Think faster
Know more
But I could
beat him at backgammon
Not often
But
it did happen
The taboo
book appeared
After I had
already jumped in
Both feet
and in over my head
Backgammon for Blood
Was the
book hidden in the briefcase
The cover
showed the smoothest guy
Leaning
over the coolest backgammon set
Each piece
had jagged edges
Deep crimson
and exquisite ivory
My first
bout of envy
For something
of sophistication
I would
think about holding those pieces
Imagine their
stone like weight
Their polished
smooth faces
And the
geared sides
I could
visualize engaging the gears
Rolling them
across the board
Like single
wheeled tractors
Supporting
my heavy hand
Then I would
play the game
On the
refined and elegant board
Maybe wear
a long sleeved black shirt
Feather back
my hair
Turn down
the background lights
And raise
my eyebrow in a knowing look
Then I would
be dangerous
Playing
for keeps
Dangerous as blood
Envy of all men
Desire of all women
Champion of
this game of ancient tradition
Roller of
double sixes
Skilled remover of my checkers
The one
who put you on the bar
And left you there in tears
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