Swivel

Barbara Westwood Diehl

I am in a chair that is ergonomic, that has purpose / I am folded

into the purpose of the chair / I would like to know / my purpose /

I believe others / have found me to be ergonomic / that is to say /

comfortable, safe, efficient / unlikely to cause discomfort / in the

chair / I face all the tasks that comprise a life / an occupation / a

life / like a chair / that is occupied / I want to fold myself into a life

/ like I fold a sheet of printer paper into a #10 envelope / to be / the

occupier of the executive suite / of my life / however / the

ergonomic chair discourages such folding / the chair insists / on

two right angles / on propping me up / holding me close / aligning

my spine / flattened as if / a dry-erase board against an office wall /

awaiting bullet points / I am the contents of the chair as manila

folders are the contents of a locked, five-drawer steel file cabinet /

I want to swivel / in my swiveling office chair / swivel away from

the screensaver, the task bar, the QWERTY keyboard, the industrial

metal desk lamp / the cup of dry pens, the Post-it pads of to-do’s

and scribbled notes / and emails that say I’ll get back to you / but

don’t / I want to pull the chair’s lift lever and give my life a

pneumatic boost / no / I want to eject myself from the office chair /

like this life is the goon in the passenger seat of James Bond’s

Aston Martin / I want my chair to be a tricked-out Aston Martin /

outfitted with revolving license plates and smokescreens /

bulletproof / I want to occupy my life / bright as a lemon twist in a

Vesper martini / in a champagne coupe / with no purpose / except /

to arrive mildly intoxicated / but unscathed / in the epilogue /

before the closing credits