I have a weight in my heart like a plate of meat. 

On occasion I am thoughtful, when riding

the train I give up my seat. Somehow this is

my measure of humanity. My friend decided 

to shit on herself if she’s stopped by police. 

She thinks it’s the only way to ensure

her survival. I have a weight in my heart 

like an empty liquor bottle. I’m the drooping 

branches of a willow. A sheet pulled tight 

across a bed. Too tight to even

crawl in and rest.