Chess was latent in the universe
before a rook or pawn ever drew breath?
On the board
divided into a criss-cross
that stymies nature, intuitively Euclidean,
kings are just as they stand, never
having had to pass through
some uncertain status as
princes. Queens
stand by their man
but move more fully. Glide in straight lines
that would go on to infinity
if they weren't stopped first
by some underling waiting at full attention
ready to topple. Before speed chess
there were clocks, and before
that, speed made naked. Before grandmasters
a tangle of amateurs,
some of whom discerned the flow
of mathematics across the photographic
surface of the waters. Bacteria
their ancestors. Contagions carrying
a pattern: hand to paw to flipper to
amoeba to nucleus, the royal birthright
that ripples through each camera.
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