Before it's too late
At ten, the doors swing wide and they are there.
Parade, you monsters of the last-chance lair!
The pints are pulled; set up another round;
More beer, some wine, a shot or two is sound.
Eleven, and the opening moves are made;
The games must last until all cards are played.
What gambit stokes this hand of hormone chess?
A red knight thrusts but staggers under stress.
Midnight, and poker dominates the board;
The king of clubs stalks through the sweating horde.
With glass in hand, he hunts his weekly prey;
A pawn of diamonds falls in open play.
At one a.m., a final hand is dealt.
All hearts are trumps. All weaker suits now melt.
A Stygian mist engulfs the sordid scene:
Full house; check mate. At two a.m., the queen.
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