Poetry

1. Burden


I hold the world on my head,


The whole world, as I know it.


Tilted precariously, perched atop


My head; I have to keep it steady, keep up


This balancing act, because if it falls off my head…


Well, if it falls off my head, it will crash down
like the


Wrath of a thousand, seriously, pissed-off gods.


Oh, so I move this way and that;


A flemenco dancer, a contortionist,


The world makes an unwieldly hat;


Perched, precariously, petulantly on the


Top of my head.


I have the world on my head, the whole damn world


As I know it.


And I am never too sure what to do with it.


My world tilted
timidly on the top of my head.


And I really wish I knew what to do with it.