This Body

Pesky, troublesome, capricious;

Efforts to control a wild-goose chase,

Farcical: a waste.

A strain in vain; hurts when it hurts;

Longings and desires, when and where it will,

Its underskirts.

 

It goes its way, in the way

And sometimes, thank the Lord, not…

One is forced to say,

“This is my lot.

I’ll do what I can do to help it stay

As long as possible;

Comfortable, perhaps good-looking, but

God knows, that part is least.”

This body is a beast

With some kind of intelligence that lies in destiny.

 

Goodbye old vanity,

Old friend one used to think so highly of,

Be steered by and obey.

Goodbye old energies one understood so little too.

Goodbye old you –

With arms, legs, trunk,

All of its useful junk inside;

The ride, the slide,

The destination thought its own,

Just bone,

If that.

 

You notice I don’t call it ‘my’,

Belonging as it does to nature.

‘It’ an it and ‘this’ a this; this body a bo-die.

 

This Body 7.15.2017

Circling Round Vanities II; Birth, Death & In Between II; Nature Of & In Reality;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

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