Hunched - Jan. 18, 2026

I pass a picture window

my back bent, like a bow,

waiting to be strung

or perhaps a fishing rod

with a big one

pulling on the hook

didn’t your mother ever yell

Don’t hunch, stand up straight!

her echo falls on my lazy ear,

I groan and pull my spine skyward

this entertainment

comes with a caution:

even this will not hasten

my next kiss with the ground