Once again I am plumbing the poetic depths - what was once a ritual. The challenge was to 'write a poem about playing a game.' I'm thinking that with two daughters, this is ezpz. What's also true is that although I'm soon bankrupt, no one is richer.
I like to win but hesitate
because I love them so.
Nonetheless, I take the cash -
200. I pass go.
Double threes, I roll again.
Oh, no! It cannot be.
Now I possess all of the orange
and both utilities.
But soon enough I find that I
have landed in the jail,
and with the hotels I have bought,
I can’t afford my bail.
While I keep trying to get out,
they’re still going around
and buying all the properties
remaining in the town.
My little girls are growing up.
I have a new nightmare -
no need to try to lose the game,
they’re winning fair and square.