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Page 114

Better than creating new games for people
is making people more able to play games
and create games for themselves. War as we
now play it is a dull, repetitive thing.
That so many make war is a sign
of lack of imagination. (Who ever heard of a
government or terrorist that could dream up
a future anyone would care to live in?)
They can think of nothing better to do.
What has stunted their imaginations so?
I can't imagine.

And how dig their imaginations out of the trenches,
for when making war, it becomes dangerous
to have enough imagination to think
the one you kill could be you.

To play, one must feel there's a chance of winning.
(What happens after too many losses?) One must
be able to confront the possibility of losing.
(What happens after too many losses -- or wins
where others are hurt?) One must be able to tolerate
motion. (What happens after too many painful
accidents?) One must be able to tolerate motionless
waiting -- a tiger waiting to pounce or almost
any baseball player, prison inmate, golfer.
(What happens after one has been waiting for years
for answers that never arrive?) One must be willing
to cause effects on others and have them cause effects
back. (Could that become intolerable? Are there things
you'd rather not say to anyone? Things you'd
be unwilling to hear?) One must be capable of
loyalty, responses to unexpected motion, co-motion
with others....

So how do you like your playing field, reader?
Our motions, waitings, the co-motions of our eyes
and minds, leaping from serif to serif? Are we
on the same side? (Of what? This page?)
Who is the opposition? (No, Who is on first!)
Who is winning? Are we beating the blank page
into submission? (To whom should I submit
these poems?)

Note: Yes, this is more essay than poem, as are several of the preceding poems (all, some would say). So what? Hey, we're just talking here. And I think you'll find some poetry emerging soon from this soil.

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