When you’ve been on your feet all day,
it helps to stop and choose a spot
to squat to ruminate a touch -- not much --
about the shifty fro-and-to of you
and the necessity of your elaborate pursuits --
how long it takes to put your boots on,
for example, or to undertake the stewardship
of all the many other exigencies
of your stridently imperious morphology.
We’re all the ins-and outs of rude biology.
It’s nice, sometimes, internally, to tell on it.Though not, perhaps, to dwell on it.