Heavy

Let me say I am a word.
Let me say the word I am.
Sometimes, please, let me change words.

Now I am Gwere, a monster,
A pressure against your chest.
I’m an old word. I’m heavy.

Somebody groaned me, under
The weight of a horse, maybe,
Or crushed by a wagon’s wheel.

I have hardly changed since then,
But I’m more widely spoken.
You may call me Gravity,

Or you may call me Grievance.
I’m not the idea of me.
I’m all the ideas of me.

Other ideas have other
Family trees, and other
Trees have other words for these.

I am the original
Injury, peine forte e dure.
I am what was done to you,

Whatever wrong gives you grief.
And I’m the last mystery,
Ghost of all cosmologies.

It’s terrible, being me.
It’s too heavy. There’s too much
Resentment for me in me.