I moved my king two squares
and he fell off the world.
The queen did scream, of course.
She’d just had her hair curled.
It was a shocking scene of gravity,
a startling moment of depravity.
Bishops, knights in castles,
all pleaded with their pawns:
keep attackers off the middle,
manicure the lawns.
Of late I’ve seen no mate
and must assume a draw.
The board is square.
It is not fair.
Roundness should be law.
