9.81
Gravity pulls on a feather as much
as a bowling ball, but other things
get in the way, slowing a feathery descent
like it's a tortoise racing a hare,
but the the moral of this story
is more scientific than ethical,
giving textbooks another chapter
junior high students pretend to read
while the teacher never truly explains
the gravitas of gravity
as a metaphor for how we all fall,
even if it takes a lifetime.
Closing In on my Aloofness
Used to enjoy wearing ties,
made me feel like someone
important, only to end up
another chafed neck among those
smart enough to apply sunscreen
on Saturdays, give advice
about house insurance, look up
at the sun on Sundays,
save “Jesus Christ”
for when they need to swear,
go for evening walks and greet
everyone who passes them by,
always get eight hours of sleep
each night because of the doctor
recommending it, but years later,
I hate ties, as they remind me
how even death expects us to dress formal.
Morals Murky as a Duck Pond
They say all that kindness behind fistfuls of bread
we fed the ducks years ago was a lie:
our conscience cleaned of bread crumbs
actually contributed to mallard diarrhea
or other fowl digestive problems,
but even now, we just reassure ourselves
how wings can't write a protest poem
against the stale bread the nearby corner store
sold for half price, and that if we want
guilt, we'll think of the Christmas turkey,
who you never looked in the eye,
although it never had a chance
to fly away.
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