When you lead a high life
like living on an 11th floor
you go up and down so much
you’d think you’d get used to it.


Some folks do
but I am prone to the horizontal
in my quotidian dailiness


Think of it!…………….
If you want to eat in our dining hall
you go down.
If you want to go swimming
you must first go down.
If you want to go places
you first go down.
If you want the treadmill
you go down before you can mount it.


I look around and sometimes feel
“six feet under” in the ground.


And then there’s up.


I get fed up with going higher and higher
while electronic voices tell me where I am.
I should shut up about my disdain for upness.
It does me no good to complain.


My life depends now
on going up and down.


Near every elevator door


there is a little map
on which is a big white dot.
And it reads:
“you are here.”
Well I guess that’s where I am.
I am here!

Thank goodness I’m not in Houston

This entry was posted in Poems. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply