by Alex Carrigan
after “Ars Poetica, XI” by Mary Jean Chan
The rule of gravity is that all that
comes down was always going to fall.
That can’t be true, because the last thing I
tossed into the sky stayed up there and laughed
at me. I still see it smile as it emerges
from behind the moon each night.
I can’t throw a lasso around it or wait for
a meteor shower to knock it out of the sky,
it will never fall.
I am left staying inside when the sun sets.
If I go outside and see that smile,
I will probably fall to my knees and
let gravity keep me down. This is what
I deserve for thinking that the apple
would always be there to give me its seeds.
Alex Carrigan (he/him) is a Pushcart-nominated editor, poet, and critic from Alexandria, VA. He is the author of Now Let’s Get Brunch (Querencia Press, 2023) and May All Our Pain Be Champagne (Alien Buddha Press, 2022). He has appeared in SoFloPoJo, Cotton Xenomorph, Bullshit Lit, HAD, fifth wheel press, and more. Visit carriganak.wordpress.com for more info.
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