Poe.m

The Stakes

So what are the stakes?

What are we even playing for?

Is there an ultimate prize

Or is it just a war of attrition,

A battle to be the last man standing

In a land of sudden silence
If you bother to stop and listen

Was this all a big mistake,

A wasted siege of long

Abandoned castles.

Perfectly executed plan

But the enemies are long gone.

The shadows in the windows were cast

By motionless wooden fakes.

Tell me the stakes.

What will you put on the line?

I have pushed forward my own last dime

While you have one foot in shallow grave

And one toe tip dipped in a frigid lake.

Everything is more interesting when there is something at stake.

Everything is more interesting when you can’t afford to lose.

Everything is more interesting

When you’re down to your last chip

When you're all out of time.

But consider:

There’s nothing at stake

You’re sitting around an imaginary table

With imaginary friends
Condemned to the same imaginary fate.

The game itself will have to suffice.

Your pile of chips is just a glacier of melting ice.

And the cards are shards of splintering trees.

There is no heaven.

There is no hell.

No redemption.

No eternal gnashing of teeth.

There is no final justice,

No pearly gates,

No hounds of hell.

No one is there to tally your scores.

The second you rise from the table

All your winnings disappear.
It's the nothingness you've always feared.

A youngster arrives to play

And wants to know the stakes.

You are now one of the grim grizzled veterans

Nodding your heads with knowing grins.

This is when the game really begins.

The cards keep coming, round and round.

Dry mouth, inelastic skin

Rasping thirst no stream could ever slake

There are no stakes.

There are no stakes.
You remind yourself.

There are no lakes of lava waiting to steam your sins

You say a heart breaks but what is that sound we hear pounding in your chest?

You can’t lose what you never had.

Bet the house, push all in.

Bluffing is the same as playing;

Your full house, your royal flush

Your lonesome pair of smudged black threes.

The Kings are all fakes.

The Queens are all fakes.

The Ace up your sleeve is the only true thing

But it can’t be played here;

Here, everyone is watching.

There is only this moment in time

When you play this card,

When you play that card,

And you play your last card,

Before the earth quivers and shakes,

Before our hearts all start to shudder,

Before this one true heart breaks.

11/6/18