How strange it is
- this flesh
- this voice
inside this flesh, it echoes
it looks around and listens
it thinks, it does think
but it will change, slowly at first
that flesh will rot
and those thoughts with it
those salad-day thoughts
that have no place in This Great Infinity
And so, this flesh has
full-bodied questions - and why not? -
to challenge this skeletal existence with
and, for now at least, it grows
to fight in its widening corner
Ah, but it longs to be more than itself
more than a bloody babbling mass
than a gaggling clutch of cells
of this flesh, with this single voice
and this one chance
23.09.09
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