finishing escapril (episode 3: posture)
if you haven’t heard the background lore about how this poetry series started off on a questionable foot - you can live in ignorance and out of the context of everything there ever was before you fell out of a coconut tree, or you can catch up by clicking here.
posture
my physical posture needs improvement
but i’m tied to a desk in a storage closet
sealed from the outside world
and plants
and birds
and trees
and the animals
and the sky
and natural light
and the sun
in a man made box of dower gray and beige
trying to feel more inspired
so all things considered my physical posture should be even worse - i should be melting into the carpet
invisible chains drag me down slumped into my chair cursing the mother fucker who invented the concept of an office without windows and thought the conditions were humane enough to spend 8 hours a day in
without slipping into a deep pit of despair of wondering whether your work means anything and is worth the mental torment of being stuck indoors where time sits stiller than you’re expected to sit
bc fidgeting is considered more disruptive
than the flourescent lights that hurt your brain
but if we’re talking about the type of posture i’m actually good at, navigating the deeply political landscape of the so-called “apolitical”
my posturing is impeccable
my frame of mind elite
my stances well researched
my arguments complete
but what i’ve learned throughout my time on this earth in this capitalist hellscape and the world of modern work
is that your physical and verbal posture can be on point as they could possibly be, but if someone doesn’t care to hear you - then you’re wasting your energy