I want to be a chair person
A poem by
They kicked the chairman from the vocabulary of the August company so that women can officially chair some committees but that’s not what I mean when I say I want to be a chair person I mean I want to be obsessed with chairs, all chairs, fluffy sofa chairs that feel like laps of air, jumbo gaming chairs to kill viruses in video games, or fancy flip desk chairs to pen down bespoke poems. I want to drool like a werewolf over a moon-white cane chair. I want to snooze with a book like a nani on a neelkamal chair. I love it when we used the stairs as chairs. My therapist asked me to buy a new chair because this ass needed to truly rest before it could wag its tail and she insisted on a simple stable wooden chair not the ergonomic workaholic voodoo revolving chair and I understood. When the mind itself has ten wheels, I need a simple stable wooden chair and nothing that leaves my feet mid-air. I need a chair with roots, not skates and so I bought it, a simple stable wooden chair and it’s helping me become who I always wanted to be, the quiet chair person of my own life.
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Objects of Our Affection is a series exploring our connections to the furniture and objects that make our spaces home. Through stories of tables, chairs, and that odd-shaped thing only you love, we celebrate the inanimate pieces that hold memory and witness our lives.
If you'd like to contribute your own story to this series, we'd love to hear from you. Micro-essays, poems, reflections, and fragments welcome. Write to us at hellothadi@gmail.com
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