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.