Decline To Comment

I dangle topside down with my knees as a hinge,

hooked loosely on this arm of oak.

The dense, knotty skin abrades the underside of my thighs

into an irritated pink.

There has been some sort of lump between abdomen

and esophagus that muscular reflexes have been too weak

to dislodge.

So I hang, allowing gravity

and self pity

to drag this recalcitrant emotion from my chest cavity.

If it remains attached,

I fear the weight may bring all connected parties

to connect with the dusty sidewalk below.