View from a Dodo Chair

A mutable shape stating that downtime hasn’t gone the way of the dodo.

Yet the days of sitting around seem extinct.

Now it’s all go-go. No need to go into it; who doesn’t know the feeling?

The dodo, maybe? Its temporality is other.

Its inability to adapt rendered it obsolete.

And so this prop here is adaptable as if to right evolutionary wrongs.

It encourages a certain flight, of the sitter’s focus inward, when tilting back, and when sitting straight, to one’s surroundings, an outrospection.

English?

Both ways must be had, or else ... 

All hinging on a lever and a handle, not as foolproof as the nod to Alice might lead you to believe.

Some groping under the seatback and trial and error is required.

And there’s no how-to either. “The best way to explain it is to do it.”

Feet on the ground, it’s the drama of everyday living.

Feet up, it’s the island of the mind, the dwelling place for other dodos whose existence only pictures and written accounts 
corroborate.

Change or die.

Who wants to go back to zero again?

More Poems by Mónica de la Torre