Breathe in the thickness, The saturation: the smell of over-proofed yeast;
incense, long-burnt; dust and
cracked spines – and realize there is not enough air in here.
There never was, anywhere.
It’s alright, Become short of breath, tight of chest. Bruise your knees
on the uncushioned kneeler
below the bench before you.
Once able, Think of yourself as Atlas or some other pagan/folklore figure
bending beneath the weight as you unfold one final time. Sit back on your heels.
Sit back and stare. Blur your vision, ignore
the glares as they clamber over you,
ruffling your hair.
Breathe in, close your eyes
Remember that things will certainly weigh less
on the other side.
Chanel Perreault is a poet who uses her writing to slow down and savour the world. As an 'eater,' urban agriculture coordinator, and member of the Food Secure Canada Youth Caucus, she finds particular inspiration in the ways that food connects us to ourselves, to each other, and to the planet.