I’m playing chess against the computer and losing.

The Pope died this afternoon, much to the joy of the media.
If it happened yesterday I would have felt relieved;
today it is simply a headline.

The laundry is being washed without my help.
The dishes were cleaned.
I’ve been sitting here four hours and have accomplished nothing.

I wish I were a cardinal in a secret selection ceremony.
Then I wouldn’t have homework to finish.
And sex would never be an issue.

I know that the computer is simply following programmed patterns
when it moves the pieces.
But I still can’t help but feel that it’s laughing at me.

Perhaps this is all a conspiracy.
Maybe it is all my fault.
Someone should check the Pope’s gums.