Untitled
by Eterna (Jan 1999)

a wooden table stands solemnly
upon four erect legs, squared to perfection
but one of them is the odd one out
with its teeter totter, teeter totter
in a wallpapered room..
flowers and vines span the entirety
curving this way and that, inanely
and the room is a cube of boredom
with four walls, a ceiling and a floor
but if you cross your eyes and move your head..
the borders will become surreal
and on two sides of the table
parallel to each other like a railroad track
are two chairs, carved into the same triviality
with a straight back and a platform for the ass
a square platform..
and four legs, with one that is imperfect
-
a square chessboard lies upon the table
like a neutral zone for the combattants facing each other
with its thickness of an inch
and its square checkered surface
the stomping ground where partial good meets evil
and the plasticized warriors are inanimated
as they stand indifferently upon their front lines
facing each other uncomprehendingly and stupidly
but of course, two or three of them want to run backwards
-
and on the edge of the tabletop rest two elbows
the other two are on the other side
with chins resting in smooth and calloused hands
as both players' faces are contorted into concentration
eyebrows knitted into calculation
eyes boring into the square board, flitting this way and that
as their brains work in overdrive to prepare their next move
and their lips have been pressed together with a mental glue
and just as surely as the pieces become alive
rising from their manufactured death
with ringing cries of battle..
the hands move with hesitation yet assurance
as the army once again becomes nothing but plastic figurines upon a board
and a game has been won..
in a square room, on a square table, on a sqaure board
the king has died, and the winner cries out with pleasure and joy
"ah, maybe next game you'll win, friend."
"let's play another.."