Chijindu

after Juan Gris, Damier et Cartes à Jouer [Checkerboard and Playing Cards] (1915)

You win a game of checkers by capturing all your opponent’s men, or putting them in a position where they are all blocked and cannot make any moves.

I am one of many played pieces
standing in a lineup
in a game
of checkers.
I’m desperately trying to learn the rules of this game
because my participation isn’t for recreation.
It is a matter of life, and
in my understanding of checkers,
if you want to become a king you have to jump
your way to the other side,
like Mike.

So, I liken the board to a basketball court
and there’s six seconds left in the fourth quarter and I’m jumping as high as I can

and I feel the glare from the backboard beating
my retinas,
and droplets of salt-filled sweat
anoint my forehead,
and I’m numb to the pain in my back,
and as my hands go up

A whistle blows.
The referee calls me foul.
I am frozen in midair
and the shimmering of lacquer on wood
is now the sparkling of broken glass against
the gray concrete rushing toward me.
My hands are still up.
I can’t make any moves.