Physical bodies are strange –
with their compulsive narrow range
of interests: as if the greatest good
were to be strong as wood: whose
systems of connected pivots,
funnels, dowels, poles, windows,
doors are engineered to coalesce
and commandeer us into eating,
fucking, sleeping, pissing, jumping,
hiding, fighting wars – and other
willed departures and arrivals –
collaterally beneficial to the ardently
adhered-to chores of flesh insisting
on its own survival – which we take
on faith is “ours” – if by identity
we mean somatic autonomic blunt
persistence: the cleaving to another
living moment bodies seek
to foment beyond all. Though
language, love and soul may go,
bodies will stay to run the show.
.
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