A lump is no big deal. A lump of coal
is not enough to heat a single room
much less an house. It’s insignificant
unless it’s in a stocking Christmas Eve.
And what about a lumpy gravy? It
will taste as good as one without the lumps.
A lump is really just a minor thing.
Unless you’re sleeping on a lumpy bed
a lump is really not that big a deal.
Until you find a lump. And then it is.
It doesn’t matter where it is. It’s there.
It shouldn’t be. How long has it been there
before you noticed it? A day? A year?
And is it just a lump or something else?
And has it grown since you first noticed it?
It’s just a lump you tell yourself. It’s just
a lump. It’s insignificant. A lump.
It’s no big deal. It’s just a lump.
It’s just a lump. It’s just a lump. It’s just . . . .