Posted by: Ron DuBour | July 31, 2014


Poesy plus Polemics

Photo from Photo from

I learned the game
from a Cuban boy
near the copper-green
cast of Liberty’s robe

where his family
of chemists
fled ass over teakettle
north to escape

from Fidel’s
fatal handcuffs
the father now swept
iron shavings

from factory floors
so the son could
become engineer
and my tutor

their story was newer
but nonetheless
similar hearkening
to my own parents

who fled in an
earlier time
not from jailers but
abject privation

the boy taught me well
and to this very day
more than fifty years
hence when I

contemplate chessmen
I ask myself
what would
Antonio do

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