I cannot keep from moving
And when I say moving I don’t mean dancing, I mean
Lateral inching—
A slow monotonous ticking, feet against soil
A neverend stepping of time trodding down my body
I call it forward with no destination
Tapping to no rhythm I cannot keep from
Moving
Downward, now
Into fetal
Legs curled under weight
Arms spindled and left to the mercy of gravity
A blubbering mess of human, now
Riddled red
And bruised
By all this dragging
I am immobile, now
I cannot keep
From moving
As I am pulled toward the end
And the descent
Is slow
—
c
poetry in motion 