Pancho was from Panama
and spoke disarmingly good English,
but you learned to trust your instinct
in this place
and guard against the plausible ones,
the bonhomie, the friendly air
and just for a moment you were
taken in
until he removed his T-shirt
to reveal a chest carefully
crossed-hatched with welted scars:
a chequer board
by his own hand. A preening display
of self harming bravado that gave light
to the glint in his eye. ‘Game of chess?’
he offered.
John H Davies
21st June 2011
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