Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Chair

Just who is it that designs chairs?  Judas?  Mephistopholes?
Some cranky old guy who wants to undermine civilization
Because his dog has gout?

I struggle to understand
Why sitting should be so hard.
Mind you I'm not complaining
About hard chairs.
No.
It's these infernal cushions,
Killing me with "kindness,"
Great slobbering marshmallows
Of gooey, upholstered fluff.
Dagnabbit!
I want a chair that promotes righteousness,
A chair that declares itself for posture,
A chair that knows the law and does it
For the sheer pleasure of moral rectitude,
Not one that tempts my back to iniquity,
And whispers soft secrets of comfort.
Lies!  Damnable lies!

Give me a chair that would curl the lips
Of the slovenly.
Give me a chair that would repel
The "workers" of sloth.
Give me a chair to make angels sing
And saints sit straight.
Give me Plato's chair,
The ideal,
The very thing,
Just so.
Ahh.

3 comments:

Mall Diva said...

Chairs of moral rectitude are all well and good, but please leave my couch alone. ;)

And, my dear Moose, you will never really know how hard it can be to sit for any length of time, because you will never be largely pregnant.

Cheerio!
Mrs. Picklesworth

irene said...

Cute!

Marvin said...

W.B. in a world of poetry gone wrong, you are a marvelous breath of true air. Bravo!