Working toward sainthood this summer solved some of my problems. For one, my daily-Mass-going mother got off my back about getting a job and moving out permanently. Plus, it gave her something to brag ... [+]
My posture is god awful.
All day I sit and
I stare
with my eyes downcast and
my shoulders approaching my ears.
Every once in a while my
awareness returns
and I swiftly push my
chest out and straighten my
spine, but in five minutes
or less
I will return to my
seemingly natural positioning.
I wonder why my back
hurts. I ponder
the crick in my
neck. I lift
my shoulders higher
as the night grows colder,
pull my knees to my chest
and fit my chin between them.
I sleep in a similar position.
My arms wrap me up
like a birthday present,
left loose
enough so that I can
crack my neck
fingers and
toes every couple of minutes.
I need to get up to crack my back.
All day I sit and
I stare
with my eyes downcast and
my shoulders approaching my ears.
Every once in a while my
awareness returns
and I swiftly push my
chest out and straighten my
spine, but in five minutes
or less
I will return to my
seemingly natural positioning.
I wonder why my back
hurts. I ponder
the crick in my
neck. I lift
my shoulders higher
as the night grows colder,
pull my knees to my chest
and fit my chin between them.
I sleep in a similar position.
My arms wrap me up
like a birthday present,
left loose
enough so that I can
crack my neck
fingers and
toes every couple of minutes.
I need to get up to crack my back.