109,867 poems read


Let us see the long body—
The long body of our life—
The thoughts lost in the sleep of reality
While we pay no attention to the minor acts
Of survival—such as getting to work on time or
Fixing our first cup of morning coffee or doing the
Laundry before we flip trough the last magazine before sleep.

Or do the dishes and  have the final "good night"  with the one
Who drives use nuts but we can’t throw them out because they
Pay half the rent.

Let us see the long body—
The long body of our life—
The story we tell ourselves each morning in the mirror
As we wake with the first cup coffee listening to the traffic reports
And the latest body count of violence in the place where Jesus lived
And the dirty dishes left in the sink and suddenly the significant other
Doesn’t seem so significant any more and you try to wonder
But the reality of this day doesn’t leave any room for wonder.

The long body of your life
Began when you left your mother's body
And will end with the last breath you take.
That’s it.
That’s all there is.
The rest is all story.
And the story is up to you.
That is your long body.
And the long body is who we are