Monday, April 22, 2013

Game Night By Mylinh Nguyen

Game Night
By: Mylinh Nguyen


I grew up bent over an old table
Every Saturday night, we would gather
around. To play a family game.
A spin of the wheel, the roll of a dice.
Cards hiding shifty eyes, trying not to
get caught. The family of five gather,
around the table. Dad at the head, mom
by his side and the kids trailing behind.
The warmth of the light, the sound of laughter.
“Do you have any 4s?” Dad looks at his
hand. A smirk spreads across his face, “Go Fish.”
After ten long minutes of go fish
The game is done, the score is in, dad wins.
Shoulda seen that comin'. Shoulda thought that
through. Old man sure still has tricks up his sleeve 
“Rematch! Rematch!” Sister and I chant.
Dad laughs out loud as if he wasn’t up
for the challenge. “One more round and that’s it”
we say. Let’s make this an interesting round.
50 in the middle and winner takes all. 
Shoulda seen that comin'. Shoulda thought that
through. Of course dad would win once more.
Family game night, filled with sore losers
And winners, to which the winner gets the
bragging rights, the title and so much more
family game nights are the best nights.
________________________________________________________________________

Prodigy by Charles Simic

I grew up bent over   
a chessboard.

I loved the word endgame.

All my cousins looked worried.

It was a small house
near a Roman graveyard.   
Planes and tanks
shook its windowpanes.

A retired professor of astronomy   
taught me how to play.

That must have been in 1944.

In the set we were using,
the paint had almost chipped off   
the black pieces.

The white King was missing   
and had to be substituted for.

I’m told but do not believe   
that that summer I witnessed   
men hung from telephone poles.

I remember my mother   
blindfolding me a lot.
She had a way of tucking my head   
suddenly under her overcoat.

In chess, too, the professor told me,   
the masters play blindfolded,   
the great ones on several boards   
at the same time. 

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