The Chinese Master sipping tea
Invaded my territory
With well-positioned weiqi stones.

I told him I didn’t know the science
Of wobbly stones on criss-cross lines.
He only answered, “Empty moans.”

I clicked my Climbing Silver down
To see the Master’s muddled frown.
I smirked and said, “My head, my game.”

He put a hand into this beard
And pulled the only piece I feared.
“A pawn’s enough to bring you shame.”

I bludgeoned him with Ace of Clubs.
He scrabbled for some Bingo rubs.
My mother called, “Get up, get up.”

The thermometer in my mouth
Confirmed the fever sailing south.
I nodded at the Oolong cup.

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