Recombination

Untroubled by the facts, blessed with
Blithe disregard of circumstance
You launch attacks with perfect confidence that
You will land
Cycling through your modest repertoire
Totaling three—a long offense, counter attack, remise—
(Note, nary a riposte)
Which works improbably well until
You meet an opponent who sees and understands, and then
You’re toast

I, on the other hand, am burdened with
Pretty good apprehension of the next move in the dance
I recognize the weakness to exploit
The opening to seize, proper response
My handicap—
I see too many endings. Beset by “but…what if…then you….”
Paralyzed by doubt, I lose my chance

Modern biotechnology may offer resolution
If we splice your fencing DNA with mine,
I guarantee an elegant solution
A stunning piece of alphabetic math
In which the sum of confidence and guile ensures
That “D” combined with “C” will yield a “B!”