A conditioning of impotence,

reaching for the salt when another swipes it first,

mounting silence in heavy boots, step upon step,

crags of volcanic history ignored by all

but you.

Buttons pop in flights of frustration,

and the weight of carrying baggage,

generations of status quo,

threatens to break your back


the ludicrous heart-heaviness and surge

for a real place in family becomes visible

for the impossibility it is.

Pitching the straps off your shoulders,

searing sight of that graveyard of the forgotten

rising skyward

into memory, you shake your head

at the Sisyphean absurdity,

turn around

and walk away.