Sunday, April 08, 2012

Z

Inspired by the work of Alexey Pajitnov.

****

This is the end.
You sowed the seeds of your own destruction
even as you left the last column free.
I watched you squirrel those boxes away in the corner
on top of the T-blocks,
assuring yourself, perhaps, that you’d deal
with those tiny gaps later,
when you had more time,
more space,
and a few more points under your belt.

The line piece you were waiting for, though, has come and gone
and now here I am, staring down at a jagged
and desperate landscape where I don’t belong.
Were you satisfied, clearing four lines
to leave nothing but a fourteen-story tower
built of rotted concrete?
Were the points worth this immovable tribute
to short-sightedness?

I have no regrets, friend.
I only hope you can say the same.

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Anonymous said...

(tf) poetic justice, my man

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