the heart is to weigh heavy
on the footstools of the knees.
They knock and are unsteady,
kind of, because they're somehow pointing
in opposite directions, duckfooted.
The heart is a too-heavy dumbwaiter
and swears clumsily because it just drops.
To sigh means the branches of the day
are finally streching, but to which end--
when orange juice filled the morning's glass
or the blue paisly bed spread?
To beat hard against the chest is the heart's dream,
though the body buckles like an unlikely rickshaw.