Flat Pack Wobbler

Flat pack Wobbler Procured from mega shop, a straight-lined box amid a cardboard wall Where jig saw chattels rise above the queues of flatbed wheelies And underarm catalogues patterned with an iconic list of what they are When the blocks are sequenced and affixed with laborious strife A transformation takes place that gives the pack new form herewith Long live the flat pack table and its tedious sway in frail chipboard Seated upon upon a quartet of nailed on props that creak objection It takes its varnished place in harmony with four bolted chairs that match And for a while it serves to hold the plates and cutlery just grand Until the careless etch of scratches weave marring patterns on its top Forever to remain as though a work of scribbled art and wrinkled mess No longer wavelets in the soup, a tidal wave is now the norm when the legs teeter Today the food’s aslant and the drinks decide to slide and slither to the floor The props have given way, they’re tired and now submit to glory And the table returns again to flat pack with eternal gratitude quartet of props