Sure but yes this is weight. We all have it. No use in complaining about it.

Where does weight come from?

O but this is simple.

It comes from waking early, alone, but then realizing you are not alone and that in the world outside there is a small peerless body, sleeping. It seems indefensible to wake the body up, and the body seems to be doing better than it was doing last night.

The body is beautiful, and stirs, and smiles when it sees you. The body notices it is naked, and blushes, and pulls at the covers. The feeling is mutual.

Where else does weight come from?

Hrm and so it seems to be a persistent Q.

It feeds on the menstrual blood beneath the fingernails as the body and you travel from one part of Obama’s America to another, still and silent, transfixed! transfixed on the same piece of gum on the train floor. Won’t someone on the train say something?

Nobody will.

The lights overhead count down the stops. They twinkle gently, as Dumbledore’s eyes might.

What is weight like?

The weight is a magic-8-ball triangle that materializes from dark blue depths, or a kraken stirring moments before the apocalypse, or a flat fish kicking up dust as it ekes along the ocean floor. It comes unbidden, is what we are trying to thesisize here.

The weight will attach itself to simple sensory experiences: posit (1) watching the twelve-spoked center of a handspun basket as the basket spins and blurs and mutates; or (2) sheets of molasses’ cascading onto thin discs of pink and bone.

Will I be OK?

Weight is liquid indifference hardened over time.

What is the warranty like?

Eighty years and a couple Kuhnic paradigm shifts, give or take.