we’re playing chess on the unfinished concourse to nowhere. you
take off your gas mask and look at me. a train slides under us,
the heart flutters, the homeless who sleep in waves around us.
are we homeless, you say, the city unridden in your face, the
lines unbuilt. you want to organize the ocean. unwrap the fish,
i say. you unwrap the fish, and the fish squints. we begin where
we are. the king is dead, and the queen is dead, and the night
is fat with pawns.