i am having a bummer moment, so i wrote this to get it off my chest

It seems as though the job or

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.