The Poem That Makes You Alive Poem by RIC BASTASA

from the office the paper works pile up
like a mountain where you walk only a few steps
where it is so steep
and you want to rest on the grass because you feel like
you are dying in a minute
and they understand why sometimes you have to stop
and get some air from the window facing the sea

when you go home for lunch
with your wife
your shoulder hangs a little bit down
like a hanging plant from a branch of an old tree
your eyes are drooping
and you lose your appetite
not the food but for life itself
you have been doing things by compulsion
this bread and butter thing
this normal course
this work that is dictated upon us
society moves like a clockwork
office like a jail
the world like a cell to you

you keep your computer open
after lunch you sit in front of it again
punch the letters and tell the screen
this is my life
this could have been my work

writing poems, this poem and the rest of the poems
this makes you alive
without milk without the cradle without the bottle