Green Hills Literary Lantern

 

Seen on a Young Woman’s Chest

 

On her blue tee,

the whale of cosmic love floats,

but, beached,

would die of crushed lungs

under its own unsupported weight.

All gods ask too much of us;

it’s why we swim ashore

to slowly suffocate

by what we carried without thought

in the sea.

But don’t bother towing us back—

once you’ve left the ocean,

you no longer know how

to stay afloat without support.

It’s not love that crushes us,

but our failure to adapt

to its absence.

 

 

David Thornbrugh is a Ring of Fire poet based in Seattle, Washington. In his poetry, he strives to make sense of existence, and to lessen some of the gloom he feels as the natural world fades further and further into the past and the future looks less and less viable. He finds life without humor not worth the effort, and the idea of being a poet in America pretty funny.