porcelain in poetry

lying in the bathtub
elbows to the walls
I could push forever
I could push the walls forever
nothing could ever happen
I’m not strong enough

at best if I went mad
or worst I suppose
and used the kind of crazy strength
that mothers use
to lift small cars off of their children
shredding all their muscles in the act
at best or worst, whichever
all I could possibly do
would be break my own arms
the bathtub would not break
it’s made of sterner stuff
than I

lying in the bathtub
in the quiet
in the warm
in solitude
in my childhood home
trapped in my home there
in empty safety
I push my elbows out
for a half-an-hour
accomplishing nothing
because I’m not made
of stuff as stern
as metal laced with porcelain

but if I got out of
this rut
and used something
stronger than my elbows
Christ
a sledgehammer would make
short work of a tub