rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Reset Twenty, Day Twenty-Six

When I settled down for a nap Saturday evening I had no idea I'd end up sleeping for eight hours. That hardly ever happens anymore. But it did happen, and now here I am in the morning with birds chirping and the bright sunlight creeping down the mass of green leaves that covers my back fence, its intensity getting ready to obliterate the cool shade that remains pooled in the yard itself. For the moment, the day is mild, but this won't last. The dreadful afternoon heat lies ahead. I'm drinking iced coffee with half and half and eating cookies, but they won't stave off the inevitable, they merely distract me for a while. At the moment I'm sufficiently distracted that I can't think at all. That's the state I want. It's Sunday. What other state would I want?




Sunday Verse



Living in the Body


by Joyce Sutphen


Body is something you need in order to stay
on this planet and you only get one.
And no matter which one you get, it will not
be satisfactory. It will not be beautiful
enough, it will not be fast enough, it will
not keep on for days at a time, but will
pull you down into a sleepy swamp and
demand apples and coffee and chocolate cake.

Body is a thing you have to carry
from one day into the next. Always the
same eyebrows over the same eyes in the same
skin when you look in the mirror, and the
same creaky knee when you get up from the
floor and the same wrist under the watchband.
The changes you can make are small and
costly—better to leave it as it is.

Body is a thing that you have to leave
eventually. You know that because you have
seen others do it, others who were once like you,
living inside their pile of bones and
flesh, smiling at you, loving you,
leaning in the doorway, talking to you
for hours and then one day they
are gone. No forwarding address.
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