POISE, COUNTERPOISE

1. 

Decade stacked on decade,
the world has gotten heavier,

but the load hasn't made me any stronger.
Most days now, I find

my quads 

are totally zapped

and shaking like hell 

from spending all morning 

bent at the knees, hips,
and waist

with so many people's
past lives

all heaped and
perfectly balanced—squarely

on top of my 

future-proof back.

2. 

I almost never even 

think about it, the 

foreman 

mumbles to me vaguely, 

shrugging 

off any guilt—

since every time 

these machines 

pave over something pretty,

I know something 

useful is 

being created. This makes me wonder,

is that anything like—

how every second I spend
not in reverie, 

I'm equally sure

something clever
is getting killed?