An Ought, is a very heavy kind of thing.
It follows you, ball and chain,
stands on your shoulder with wings
light as air and knocks you down
half-moon, bent knees.
It in itself, is followed
over and over by the next
Ought. Standing each upon the other
built, up, supported by the limbs from their bodies
up, and up, in interlocking rungs.
Until there is the sky, and you
cannot see the Oughts anymore,
and so you wonder, what they look like
all the way up there.
The sky would be a nice kind of thing
to touch, and if you knew what it looked like
all the way up top, perhaps it would not be so