Static in Motion

Frozen porcelained in time and place

And all meaning--alone and inert—

I roll around in a bathtub of space,

Singly ignored and angry--and hurt.

.

Archimedes portended when measuring the volume

Of the pain suspended in the fluid that rises;

My liquidity bloats me, inviting all, to exhume

My soiled body, my life, and life's excuses that advise us.

.

No one has stood so still, so fast,

So static in stasis, not open to motion

As I was, living my life, now passed

In the pain of my pointlessness, raising its ocean.

.

My bathing in pain is over

My tub drains down the hangry Charybdis

Still dirty and bloated, I fear the foreclosure

With a new kind of static life as this:

.

Life to death is assessed in the purity,

And your choices made assess your hygiene,

But coming out dirty grants stark surety

That you arrive, when you do, just as unclean