You are chewing
a piece of baguette, perhaps
or an apple
and you are thinking of other things
letting the machine of your mouth
open and close
until your throat disobeys
for no good reason
you are very good at chewing
but the food clogs the hole
like clay
hardening
they say it makes you panic
but there is only rage
no no no I refuse to die like this
the seconds collapse into each other
it is so quiet
too peaceful
shouldn’t the air be thundering with alarm
but the bamboo outside sways gently
and the pen on the counter just lies there
calm and oblivious
as if there isn’t an important person
choking to death
later you will wonder
after swallowing finally worked
why you were so angry
it was not the prospect of you dying
it was seeing how so much
would remain the same.
INSPIRED TO SHARE?