The Squared Circle

Ladies and gentlemen,
your attention, please.

In this corner, your giant.
And in this corner, the other giant.

It’s one giant in a mirror.
No, it’s not.

It’s a fake giant and a real one.
Or, no giants but in ourselves.

Here are the rules:

When your giant strikes, cringe and shout praise.
When the other giant falls, dance as if you were on fire.

When the other giant strikes, close your eyes.
When your giant falls, it’s your fault.

If you think there’s just one giant,
speak in tongues until the mirror cracks.

If you think one giant is a fraud,
be sure which one it is before you bet.

If there’s no giant, why are you here?
You must have heard something.

Rounds begin and end when a giant’s boot
stomps a referee into the mat.

Knockouts? Don’t be ridiculous.
A decision’s not official until some of you are killed,

and if during the fight someone next to you says
stop, stop the fight, the giants

are the only ones
who aren’t dying,

you are to smite that person
with a rulebook until nothing more is said.

This is the fight that the rules have made,
let us be glad and rejoice in it;

shake hands, come out swinging,
and quickly forget which giant you are,

or whether you’re a giant or a spectator, and
whether that makes any difference at all.