The man has just walked into our chess club
He’s locked the door and sat down at the king’s game,
Propped his rifle against his chair and boot
Having used it pointedly to usher
Us all across him, an opponent group.
The rifle is fully automatic, brute
Riposte to peaceful fields in flower. His words:
Today either I persuade you or I shoot.
He’s come to play two games. One on the chess board,
One in dynamic of this room’s reality;
The realms codepend. He seeks us as recruits
In changing the very rules of chess
The world over, a game gone stale, says he,
Well overdue for industrial reboot.
One rule won’t change : I’m white—I make the first move,
Then either I persuade you or I shoot.
He waits while we brew in consternation;
Do we focus on his strange opening,
Knight to queen’s rook three; are all moves for moot?
Do we just scatter, break out for the doors?
Some claim they’ve read his strategy twelve turns ahead.
Others gesture at the muzzle by his boot
A mere arm’s length away. He smiles: Time’s up now.
Have I persuaded you or do I shoot?