This Shifting Thing 2012

This Shifting Thing

 

This constantly shifting thing

We call the body.

(thing – no holy

thing – just thing which changes

by the hour,

flowering and wilting)

As I watch inside it,

Idolizing and despising,

Taking care,

Such futile care,

“Hypochondriacal” pops up where.

It’s doctored

sillily.

Body for each weekday,

Wreck day,

Weak day,

To rinse out and cleanse

And without choice endure,

Racking intellect’s grey matter

In the search for what

Does not exist:

Something stable and unchanging;

Body poised

Which in a perfect world

Could go unnoticed.

Myth

With which to live

And not a stitch

Of truth.

 

This Shifting Thing 6.14.2012

A Sense Of The Ridiculous;Circling Round Energy;Nature Of & In Reality;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

 

 

 

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