In a grad school textbook
I saw a drawing of a spider spinning a web
After scientists gave it caffeine.
Disorganized, unpatterned, this web
And I think about Whitman
His spider poem once reaching out to me
Patient, spinning, giving me hope.
And I think about the caffeinated spider
And how I have so much in common with its web
Disorganized, unpatterned, this life
And I wonder if I will ever again feel balanced,
Capable of creating something as delicate and organized
As a spider’s web
Or if the new normal is this
A new routine:
At least twice a day
I lace up my charcoal grey shoes
Put on my charcoal grey hoodie
Attach my AirPods
Fire up an audiobook
And I walk.
I stroll slowly along the sidewalks in a loop
While Malcolm Gladwell or Ronan Farrow
Teach me about injustice
My entire woman life I’ve thought movement must involve
Sweat, exertion, pain
Never fun, relaxation, enjoyment.
These walks I take are my only fresh air
They are my primary source of movement
And rather than dread them or consider them
Something That I Must Do For Society To Value Me As A Person
I breathe deeply,