ON THE MARBLE FLOOR
ON THE MARBLE FLOOR
by Nicole Kuwik
I imagine that it must be pretty scary
to be a flailing moth
on the marble floor
of an office building.
Even in the hands of a rescuer,
You lose that precious powder
by a simple slight of hand,
and you’re constricted to the hot concrete,
which most certainly
means death:
Via apathetic trampling by giant shoe or
sheer burning of your most vital parts,
while boulderous heels fall repeatedly
from all directions.
Yeah, that must be what it’s like for a delicate sensitive individual working downtown or anywhere indifferently underfoot or even in the most well-intentioned hands.