Sense Sonnet - Chiller

Game

I have a chessboard that I use
To keep count of how many men
I've killed in random rendevous,
Met here and there and now and then.
A bottle of vodka is how
I lure the victim to some spot,
With the sad tale that my bow wow
Has just died and I'm so distraught.
When he is drunk sufficiently,
With the bottle I smash his head.
The bottle cap, I take with me.
On the chessboard, it marks the dead.

Men will continue to be killed,
Until each chessboard space is filled.