Coffee yourself to a stupor and battle parolees,
Schizos and fools like yourself on the chessboard.
Floyd sees impatience; the way that you pressure his pieces.
Victory's vague and you seek out those masters of planning.
Winning against them's annoying and each of of them offers
Models of playing with people. You pity them. Purchase
Drinks for them; watching them stroll on Valencia—laughing!
How is it possible losers absorb what satori
Drunkards and grumbling hipsters exude in the yellow?
Each of their footsteps is bland and you follow the feathers,
Garbage, the sores on a prostitute. One of the players
Says that you're sick and you carry your prison in public.
Prison is mental he said and I wondered how freedom
Feels to the man with a baby he visits but rarely,
Preaching the gospel to likeminded hypocrites, chasing
Orgasm, freedom from conscience and losing in cycles;
Losing the queen to an oversight, losing their temper
Knocking the board off the table and threatening, 'never
Play here again,' for they fear when a winner engages
Past-times for slackers who never achieve their potential.
“Staff at California's Folsom State Prison worked Saturday to determine the cause of a "major riot" in the prison yard a day earlier that involved 200 inmates, officials there said.”
– CNN Wire Staff, CNN, August 28, 2010
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