COMEDY Poem: A misty figure appears, how curious., by Jana Tvorogova

A misty figure appears, how curious.
For it appears beneath the tabletop.
I make sure, look under the surface once again.
And yes, truly, there it sits, having chased away the shadow.

I glance around, no one else seems to have noticed,
no one else has thought to look under the table.
After all, there’s already enough to see on the table:
– Glasses, filled
– Plates, filled
– Cigarette packs, half-filled
– Hands, intertwined
– Flower vases, displaced
– Notebooks, untouched

I peek down again.
And it’s still there, clinging tightly to the table leg.
Poor little thing, has it perhaps lost its mother?
Glasses clink and bump. It flinches.

I look at the others at the table and ask for a napkin.
They hand me one.

I reach under the table, trying to gather the little thing.
It moves, and the table begins to shake.

“Hey, careful down there,” someone says to me.
With a red head I explain,
“Yes, yes. I just wanted to pick up an olive.”

Then I stare at it, straight into those tiny black eyes.
It stares back, defiant.
I slowly extend the hand holding the napkin.
It hisses at me, and startled, I bump my head on the tabletop.

And the table shakes.
And the half-empty glasses fall.
And the half-full plates fall.
And the empty cigarette packs fall.
And the hands dart for the glasses.
And the displaced flower vases fall.
And the untouched notebooks fall.