Body of Work

I see me vanishing into

A moonlit morning expecting

A normal day but for months

"Normal" has assumed a new identity

On every single date

I'm befuddled by love

That embraces me tighter than I know how to receive

I'm confused about my origins again

Wondering why I came here in the

First place and why I'm going  

Anywhere else.

Am I done this time,

Can I hang up my sagging flesh

My loud ass head, my bulging

Inner tubes

Failing organs, broken joints rubbing

Against bone and my meandering heart?

Life runs through my diseased trunk

Of years like blood: swimming then

Hiding before confessing a different

Truth every time

My rouge veins render stolen stories

Of what my life has given me;

Habits from what my blood carries

Many separate truths telling

Lies my body holds as secret

Who of us know the answers or

Venture to explore the legacy of our

Body before we’re ready to be hung on the line

And left to dry?

We’re certainly more than dirty laundry

More than threadbare garments thrown aside

For Goodwill or hand-me-downs for funky teens

To claim as retro wear.

Lightning and thunderstorms make trees bud

And green again

Grass greens and dandelions shoot up as always

Radical; changing peoples taste and attitudes

It’s time to ice the coffee ice some tea

Condition humid air

I’m, however feeling more like autumn

My leaves are falling and I'm feeling more like a

Transition into winter than into spring or summer

I'm going to a place beings go to hibernate

And living things disappear under ice, cold and snow

I’m going to a place, “I'll have nothing to do,” so some say.

Who knows if I'll have anybody to do anything with?

I’m going to a place I know nothing about except

Everybody pretends to know something about it

I don't know if I'm going to a place or just going

I have no bags packed but I’m ready