Published in Kilometer Zero. Paris. 2000.
37 Rue de la Bucherie
Paris, France 75018
MARCO THE PAWN
Marco the Pawn fell in love with the King,
Hoping for grand love and not just a fling.
He passed notes to Pawns, and from them to his love,
But love was a trifle the King was above.
The pieces played on, as Marco despaired,
Picking petals from roses as the King and Queen paired.
But when things got rough, the Queen went to the front,
And left a seat by the King for Marco the Runt.
Still it was futile, the King was amiss.
To him Poor Pawn Marco was not worth a piss.
One day the Queen fell, but still Marco knew
Homo love was not something that his King would do.
Then just at the moment with all his hope scant,
Marco saw four rows forward his one final chance.
He faked to D5 and Black’s Rook took the bait.
Then he rushed past the tail pawns and got to E8.
Now, Marco the Queen was quite a disguise.
He soon had the King’s right hand stroking his thighs.
Marco hid his erection. The King never knew.
And together, the chessboard they ruled through and through.