Horse Chestnut

by Luke Samuel Yates

I have considered picking

these cow eyes from the ground

stowing them in woody-smelling bags

to moulder as I forget amongst

multi-coloured stickly bricks

(encumbered by cylindrical heads).

It would feel good again

to stash these off-spherical shapes

of marbled browns and creamy stain patches –

to roughly select the plummier specimens

fantasise about their potential

their spectacular performances

the effortless force, the explosion,

the sound and the pain of triumph

as an opponent’s pieces hit your velcroed shoe

still smoking.