How to be Gravity
Be a mammy–
Fleshy arms unwilling to let anything go,
and always someone fighting your grip,
to muster enough speed to escape you.
Enforce the rules with the palm of your hand.
Moonlight as death,
or a jealous god.
Put heaven and hell in their place.
Know that there are more intimate places
to hook your anchors
than flesh or bone.
There’s a part of everyone
that will always escape you,
at the end.
Until then, pull everything
‘How to be Gravity’, unpublished poem, © Jacob Sam-La Rose 2011, used by permission of the author.