On a break from college
when I was young and pretty
I was giving a woman a piggyback ride
while carrying a box of files.

I didn’t hear the crack.
I did feel it, though.

I put the woman down, apologizing,
carried the box a little further,
and then dropped that, too.
I went home and wondered what the fuck happened.

I discovered the words “bad back,”
and thus, my mortality.
No longer was I a young god.
At 20 years old, I wasn’t invulnerable anymore.

I found a local chiropractor who gave me some relief
but I realized there were things beyond my limits,
like walking upright or being able to touch my toes.
I’d never been much for physical fitness
but now I was nowhere near physically fit.

Chiropractic helped a lot. So did exercise
– when I thought about doing them. I got better
but my back plagued me.
Along with my weight, my spine caused me trouble
for decades – but weirdly, as I gained
additional hundreds of pounds
the blubber seemed to protect my core
and my back stopped giving me any kind of shit.

Declaring it is usually the death knell for good things
so no doubt I’ve jinxed it
but I haven’t had spinal issues for over a decade now,
even as I’ve thinned out.

Strange magic, that.