Poetry from Thailand

Original poetry written in and about rural Thailand.

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Location: Chong Khae, Nakhonsawan, Thailand

Friday, May 24, 2013

The Rules Were The First To Go

[My 50th Reunion is next month.  GHS]

Monopoly, Parcheesi, Clue, Chutes and Ladders:
my memory of high school fifty years ago is like
a board game that I had no patience to play then,
and no real desire to play now.  At any rate, the
dice, deeds, play money, and tokens have long ago
been lost or strewn God knows where by an army
of children who categorically disavow any knowledge
of where the parts to the whole might be.  And
the rules: folded in gum wrapper-size paper in print
so small I could barely read then and wouldn’t even
try to read now, the rules were the first to go.

Still, I’m game and pull out the old card table.  It has
a picture on the bottom holding up six fat men
standing on a plank laid across the top of the table.
“Damn,” I say, making small talk, “why didn’t
I test that when I was young?”  I’m not good
at making small talk but my guests know that, because
they know me.  Now, with three or more players, I
unfold the portfolio-size board that is like a memory,
and lay it down flat.  “Look,” we say, “there’s the Library,
Pierce’s, and the popcorn stand.”  It all comes back as
we look down on this flat world so we don’t play.  We
just sit around . . . now old . . . and reminisce.

FG 5/23/2013

All rights reserved by the author Forrest Greenwood.


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