Bookstore Poem #379. The weight

Hanging out at the bookstore this afternoon…

I feel heavy

seconds ago
I didn’t

Nothing has changed
between then and now

except for the few steps
I took

to get to where
I am now standing

In fact
I am now sitting

I had to sit
if only to prevent

the concentration
of this added weight

in the small area
covered by my feet

from causing the ground
to collapse

sending me
into unknown depths

I mean
I don’t know

what’s under
this part of the building

pipes?

some sort of holding pool?

a chamber
containing the noxious stuff
sucked away
by the HVAC?

dirt?

unmarked industrial waste?

the dark side of the moon?

nothing?

I feel
marginally safer

with this chair
and its cushion

doing the hard work
of supporting

the extra weight
without complaint

At least
now when I fall

through the ground
I will do so

in comfort
if not style

(14 September 2018)

 


 

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