POEMS

The first was a hand me down.

He was sort of gruffy looking,

With plastic armrests and only a head cushion,

It might not have looked appealing.

 

But as far as I know, he was fine enough to me.

As I hadn’t yet cared,

About having a decent desk chair.

 

He would do what he could.

He would swivel and give my tush a cush(ion),

For that is all a chair can really do,

But he did it the way he would

 

But eventually, as all things do,

That chair was replaced,

This next one was brand new.

Although I would miss our sitting times together,

I knew this next chair would make things better.

 

This next one’s figure was quite spotly.

His arms might not have been soft,

But he let my back rest wholly.

 

He was small but like his brethren could swivel,

With his soft hide for comfort I would not quirrel.

 

Like his before him, his structure wasn’t sturdy.

Give it barely enough push,

He would succumb to gravity.

 

This one lived a fine time,

But that one day ended.

Though wear and tear it sustained,

It was not substantial.

 

Then came the third chair I’ve sat in,

She was the game changer.

Soft armrests for my often used limbs,

A cushion like a dream,

She could of course swivel,

She was like a queen.

 

Something much uniquer,

Albeit very useful,

She could raise her arms and the roof,

Certainly versatile!

 

This one lasted a while,

With wildly good times!

But a problem one day arose,

One I almost didn’t notice.

 

I moved rather drastically,

Half the time, side to side.

This I didn’t mind,

But she would not be fine.

 

Eventually one day,

Due to my own stupidity,

The chair from its stand was decapitated!

 

Although I tried to make fun,
Of my unique situation,

I caused her demise either way,

This was a hard revelation.

 

That very same day,

Or was it the day after?

Either way, I knew chair I got soon,

My caution mostly ensured.

 

I would learn from my mistakes this time,

Or at least I would try,

But before we got home, the truck’s battery died.

But we managed to get a jumpstart,

Courtesy of a good Samaritan,

So after the building process,

I got to sitting down.

​

This fourth chair that I, Evan, have sat my rear end in,

Is possibly the most advanced, as far as I’ve seen.

Her arms may not raise the roof, 

But that’s alright, I am content.

For two cushions she came with, for my head and my tush,

Only the latter of which I use,

Which is happenstance I swear.

 

What makes this chair so special you ask?

It takes a second look to realize the truth!

For your tush gets a seat but underneath,

Is hidden a resting place for your feet!

Although it may not be one’s personal preference,

It still has utility, and versatility to reference.

 

For she and I sit together to this day,

Though wear and tear still occurs

Such is a natural thing however,

As I have come to acknowledge.

All is apart of the Great Desk Chair Circle Of Life,

Such is the case with my personal chair.

​

Now one might ask,

If you had to write about anything at all

Why pick a few desk chairs and their shenanigans,

And archive these random details and times?

If that were the case however,

I would have to retort,

You said “anything at all”, you did,

This choice was natural of course.

 

For even such arbitrary things,

They have a story to tell.

If the wild and weird stories weren’t told,

Among the tragedies and triumphs,

Then history books probably wouldn’t sell that well.

 

There are stories no one records, 

And therefore no one knows.

Writing about the simple things we use everyday,

May help one to appreciate,

What they have in their lives, some, including me, might say.