Plinth by Kevin Chesser
Short-shorts editor Adam Nesbit on today’s piece: When we first spotted Kevin Chesser’s “Plinth” in our queue, it twinkled like a heavenly body. The technical name for such twinkling is astronomical scintillation, and the instrument used to measure it, a scintillometer. Measuring instrument or none, though, twinkling is troublesome. A twinkling thing winks and flirts and smiles like a cartoon. But it also indicates atmospheric turbulence, unfathomable distance, wavering uncertainty. By the time your squinted naked eye sees those hints of pulsating light, it’s too late. They’ve arrived out of time, from long before you stand where you’re standing now. Kind of makes you feel small.
Plinth
When the Earth was first made, it looked like a bust of a human head. It was not one of God’s creations. God was only brought in later as a consultant. He said, to the shadowy Earth investors, the first thing I would do is start sanding away some of these features. They give the whole thing a power of will that I don’t think you want. The investors said, what is power of will? Can you explain that? And God said, trust me, you don’t want it. Add some more ocean and mud to the bottom and the sides, try to smooth it out. Just my opinion, but I think it would look better if it was round. And you can lose the plinth. You know things out here can float, right? See? We’re floating right now, he said with a graceful twirl. The investors said they liked the plinth, that it made the whole thing look like it belonged there. And God said, well, what belongs and what doesn’t isn’t really my department, so it’s up to you. I’m just saying the plinth could be put to better use as something else. Like what, said the investors. I’m not sure, I’ll have to get back to you on that, God said.
Kevin Chesser is a poet and musician whose writing can be found in Only Poems, Hobart, Bruiser Mag, elsewhere, Pithead Chapel, and other places. He is the author of a poetry collection, Relief of My Symptoms (Ghost Palace Press, 2023), and lives in West Virginia with his fiancee and his cat.
Find more of his work on his website, www.kchesser.com.
