A Game Of Chess Poem by David Thomas

anyday that's been a long day
you can always cure by playing chess,
all of your problems vanish into dust
as the cracked and decayed wooden pieces
creep from their spaces
and devour into hell their opposites among the field,
i lose sight of what bothers me
in order to conquer my opponent,
the more the fight drags on
the stronger i become
i've never won a game you know,
because everytime, some way or another,
i corner my opponent to the inability to move
and against what my thoughts thought,
the computer calls it a draw.