Atlas Yearns for
Retirement
by Richard Allen
Taylor
Zeus
sentenced me to hold up the sky, penance for my
rebellion.
Not
satisfied, mortals added the world to my burden.
A
god who willingly accepts responsibility, I bear the
globe
without
rancor. I have a reputation, not merely a planet,
to uphold.
Men
named an ocean after me, sculpted my image with a
sphere
on
my shoulders. So there it stays. In many places, crowds
marvel
at
my likeness: in Naples, Melbourne, Rockefeller Center. I
appear
on
the covers of map books in all major libraries and
bookstores.
Online
vendors offer a splendid variety of figurines and
other
artistic
renderings of me.
I
hoped my load would lighten, as war and cruelty abated.
It
grew heavier. After rotator cuff surgery, I shifted all
the weight
to
one shoulder. I keep turning the world to keep the hot
spots—
Afghanistan,
Syria, Sudan, Ukraine, Somalia—from burning
my
neck. Finding a suitable volunteer to replace me has
gone
nowhere.
Many crave the glory, but no one wants the work.
Richard
Allen Taylor
is the author of four poetry collections, most recently Letters to Karen Carpenter
and Other Poems (Main Street Rag Publishing Company, 2023). His poems,
articles
and reviews have appeared in Rattle,
Comstock Review, and Aeolian Harp, among
others. A Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominee, Taylor formerly served as
review editor for The Main Street Rag and
co-editor of Kakalak. After retiring
from his business career, he earned an MFA in Creative Writing from Queens
University of Charlotte and now resides in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.