Clueless (2007), Robert Forrey
Games
They were different from the beginning
And if only he had seen in what ways
And not been preoccupied with winning
But rather had cleverly played it as it lays,
It would have been a less frustrating game,
One played with many fulsome round objects,
In which there’s no place for race, grief, or shame
Defiled under the rubric pet projects.
But that’s always the way with perfection,
Which is not what it’s cracked up to be—
Bootlegged hankering after rejection
Is what it is, to speak dishonestly.
Aren’t we always playing games at the shrine
Not of what’s mine, really, but of what’s thine?
Robert Forrey, 2011
