Atlas

Certainly
I left him–"holding the bag".
That puffed up fool
Muscle-headed half-God.

Should I feel remorse?
Why?
I have this stoop,
Painful arc,
Burnt into my neck
and shoulders.

From all those stone years.
There is a hollow
Ache
As if-
A piece of my body
Were missing.

Perhaps-
Just to satisfy myself,
I shall let him trick me
(Who is the bigger fool?)
Into taking it up
Again.