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"Marriage Counseling Over a Game of Go" & "Video Games" by Alex Carrigan



Marriage Counseling Over a Game of Go


There are 391 points on this

Go board for us to position where

we feel our most confident.

Where we think we can gain the most

if we block the points on the

hundreds of compass roses before us.


When you move the black stones into each cross section

the way one builds the foundation for a cairn,

I think about how each gap you leave

makes me feel when I look into

your eyes after you make your play.

Smooth, obsidian, with my reflection

within them curling like a wave on the shore.


I rub a white stone between my fingertips

the way you may rub that amethyst

in your pocket before each interview.

You asked me to play Go with you because

you didn’t want your mind to become

stagnant. You wanted to see

if you could build territories

that snaked and bent

across the earthen board.


Every second of silence

before you let the black stone pathway

expand is a moment for you

to become more assured in your

growth and power.


I want to help you continue this growth,

to ensure that you can cover the world

in shadows.

However, you’ve asked me to

lay pearls down and encroach upon

your new world.

You ask me to threaten you,

to challenge you,

to make you fearful.


Once we put the stones away

and share a warm mug of plum wine

after we play, I hope you can still

see me as the person who supported you,

even as I forced you into resignation

by taking away your liberties.



Video Games


On a small street off DuPont Circle,

two figures hidden in the evening

are huddled close together.

Their forms merge into a stoop,

their shadows blend with the ones

cast by the apartment complex across from them.

One of them exposes himself

with the light of his smartphone,

his glasses reflecting back

the album art on screen.


I hear the voice of Lana spill

out into that February evening air.

She claims that

Heaven is a place on Earth with you.


I wonder if these two,

lost in the space where the street lamps

were torn out to widen the road,

could call this their own personal paradise,

or just a place to wait for their rideshare.


People could walk by without

even knowing they were there

in the world built for two.


Well, at least

now I do.




Alex Carrigan (he/him) is a Pushcart-nominated editor, poet, and critic from Alexandria, Virginia. He is the author of Now Let’s Get Brunch: A Collection of RuPaul’s Drag Race Twitter Poetry (Querencia Press, 2023) and May All Our Pain Be Champagne: A Collection of Real Housewives Twitter Poetry (Alien Buddha Press, 2022). He has had fiction, poetry, and literary reviews published in Quail Bell Magazine, Lambda Literary Review, Barrelhouse, Sage Cigarettes (Best of the Net Nominee, 2023), Stories About Penises (Guts Publishing, 2019), and more. For more information, visit carriganak.wordpress.com or on Twitter @carriganak.

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