How  It Works
Your carefully selected words
Stumble, misspokenBecome what she expected
What she thought you’d say.
Words can do that so easily
Intention disappears
Frame of reference slips
And now she can sit smugly
Back readying her attack
On what she heard you say.
Explaining it, reviewing it
Parsing out what you said
Will do nothing now
That it has become history
Part of that transcript
An unchangeable part of
What he said and she said
What you said and she heard.
Words can dig holes, can fly free
Can jump the tracks, run away
Can stand alone, wear disguises
Can scratch, can cut deep, and
Words can seal a fate – like now.
Playing at  It
 
It isn’t a game after all, a lob just over the  net
To his or her non-existent backhand,  fifteen-love.
 
It isn’t a game after all, horses at the old  hoop,
Jump shots, set shots, hooks till someone  misses.
 
It isn’t a game after all, ten pins down the  alley,
Strikes and spares, in the gutter and over the  line.
 
It isn’t a game after all, with pawns and  rooks
Protecting the queen and the king’s last  move.
 
It isn’t a game after all, just one live  bullet in six,
A spin, then to the temple, then pull the  trigger, 
 
And after all that,  it wasn’t a game after all.
 
J. K. Durick is a writing teacher at  the Community College of Vermont and an online writing tutor. His recent  poems have appeared in Literary Juice, Jellyfish Whispers, Third Wednesday, and Common Ground  Review. 
 
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