What the Body Is
Symptom. Effect. The shadow that follows
our decisions.
Pushpin in the world map, clinging as it goes
from cape to sphere.
Calendar. Collection of dates, appointments,
behavior. Daybook.
Thin duplicate of every check written. Footprint.
Tracks. A trace.
The block of marble that we break. Sculpture of ice,
butter. Sandcastle.
Bullet. Bee. Chasing a trajectory. Satellite, asteroid.
Chewed tennis ball.
Bandage, carrying injuries. Plaster cast, its messages:
Get well. Feel better.
Not the car, or the road, or the house. The doorbell.
The knob. The lock.
My BF, Hillman, hates the word "body". He hates it because he believes that when we say it we think we know what we are talking about and that we really don't. You, on the other hand, know what body is. Hilly would love your definition. I do too.xoxo
ReplyDeleteI think you described a lot of what has happened to my body...whew. I think I need to rest! xoxo
ReplyDeleteI'm dizzy from the contrast between the painting (body as circuit that expresses source and becomes in the process the whole) and the poem (body as transient shape that attaches to its component details in such a way to mediate and resist totalization). Either way, I like the largeness and strangeness of the concept -- and the incessant, restless music that barely stops to savor the "chewed tennis ball."
ReplyDeleteWhitmanesque. Love it.
ReplyDeleteI adore Hajek, loved that you wrote a poem based on a prompt from one of his pieces...
ReplyDelete"Calendar. Collection of dates, appointments,
behavior. Daybook.
Thin duplicate of every check written. Footprint.
Tracks. A trace."
The inclusion of Daybook makes me smile, it is the details in poetry, such as this one, that reveal a poet's eye. Attention. Yours.