Weight Wait

Overweight, weighted
down with weight, with weighty thoughts
with a weighty

Proposal. I do
I think I really do want
to lose these weights, these

Shackled pounds that keep
me staggering under the
weight of myself, my

meaty thighs, my thick
ponderousness, my belly.
Lose the weights and fly.

Challenge

She’s gone and they expect the crowds

the mourners will overflow, hundreds

will pack into too small of a space.

Rent out a grand room, to hold everyone

who wants to pay their respects.

And I look around, lost in the throng,

amidst and adrift

and ask myself

What good can I do now,

so when I die, years hence,

I will be mourned like this?

What good can we all do now?