Backs

Some of the spines are stiff

with self-righteous indignation,

others sag under slumped shoulders.

Some bend beneath pressure to always

do the right thing

with one eye closed, a stone (ready to throw)

clutched in one hand (fuck a counterbalance);

everything

        off
     -
                    center

Skewed.

Some shift with political winds,

supine in the breeze.

Some shrink into the distance,

horizoning.

And some are in my face,

slamming into it

with the force of a truck.

So many have turned on me.