when our thighs trembled like chess pieces in an earthquake

we went to see "godspell" in a mountain theatre

in a small country or state

whose name has too many consonants

thrown like a profusion of dice

shaken in totalitarian hands

and onto an imaginary board

in a misbegotten game

aping the ideals of democracy

we felt like pawns

we moved like the knight

and the bishop, respectively

we castled like we were masturbating

in a philosophical porn-film

the lights were too low

for the players all costumed as "salome"

except that the black veils

cover all the actors

like they were pulled from the sleeve of a muslim

magician (covered in her natural darkness)

who was giving all that she had

but could never reveal herself

all of the pieces and players

were stumbling across the board blind

the veils covering their eyes

we acted as the king and queen

risen from our former status

a great wind began to blow

and the mountainside chess board began to tremble

and the shrieks and cries of all the player pieces

rose up like a choir of whores

and we tumbled to the other side of the tor

and landed in a clear running stream

and i looked into her smiling eyes

a said i normally wind up bleeding, drunk and in a ditch

we should go out again