Thursday, August 19, 2021

poem

 Doppler

August is the heaviest month.

Everything is just too much.

You can haul away the languid air

By the wheelbarrow load.

Everything moves slow 

Like we’re all caught in a

Rapidly coagulating clot.

The Massillon train moans its departure before

Rumbling on like stratospheric machinery.

You’re always bent over,

Hands on your knees

Panting like front porch dogs.

Everything is so stifling and heavy.

The universe is sitting on my shoulders

But the Doppler effect would suggest

Otherwise, that it’s actually expanding,

Not falling in on itself like I tend to do.

Unburdening is red-shifting

Away, weightless and free,

Crystalline chill of morning dew,

But someplace far from me.


8/19/21

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