Lay on the kitchen floor like when you were a child.
Look at the ceiling and the light fixture. Count
any dark flecks in the shade. What radio station
did your mother listen to while cooking? Why does it make you
feel sleepy and heavy? Let the floor pull your spine straighter.
Place your palms flat on the ground beside you. Wait until
the floor under your hand warms. Slide your arms a hand-width
away from your body; two watch hands ticking in opposite
directions. Time is being cancelled out
while you exist here, feeling breath push against linoleum. Cool—
warm—cool—warm until your body makes a T.
Breathe deep and steady until you feel a warming in your belly.
Grab fistfuls of your hair and pull straight up. Count breaths
up to your age. Next, rise and place your phone where you were laying.
Fetch your heaviest books and pile them on top as best
you can. Anthologies from college and long novels written by men
are good for this. Stack them to the ceiling. Let the pages outtalk
and lecture your phone, while you soak in an epsom salt bath.
Allison P. Brown is a western New York-based poet and editor. She holds an MFA from Emerson College and now works with student publications and faculty authors across New York state. Her micro-chapbook Small Remedies was recently published by The Engine(Idling, and other work has appeared in Lines + Stars, and Epistemic Literary, among others.