Today’s prompt was to write a poem which incorporated language from a sport or game. Can you guess what it is?

Janken Pon!

Send me a sign:

If it is paa let me lie
thin and bright
bare and flat
against the palm
that I held once,
smooth and unflinching
as the rotten sky.

Or if you are compact,
my heavy hearted guu,
I’ll mine for misery
and mineral in the crush
of your bulk.
I’ll take you solid, crumbled,
or faltering to dust.

Of course, you may flick
me the V: choki;
silver fingered slice
as something unspools
itself in your crocodile
mouth. Cut it out anyway.

It is only my heart
that is lost.


More about the game here

Picture credit: https://publicdomainreview.org/collections/chirologia-or-the-natural-language-of-the-hand-1644/


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