becoming a chair

Watch carefully as the pedestal
beneath his feet creaks
under his oppressive force
respect him as they tell you
despite the blinding shine
of polished black shoes
despite the child who paid
an arm to sew his pants
laugh with him at each joke
and sigh with inaction --
at least you’re not hungry
soon you’ll find – soon you must --
that in all of the blindness
of your own two eyes,
in the lips you kept
silently sewn,
in the ears palms covered,
hands clasped idly as the
pedestal grew tired
you feel yourself creak
as an ill sapling
and wonder at the sound
for it comes from hunched shoulders.
your spine bends. The man sits down.