THIS LEG OF MINE
I walk – my attention is moving from
proverbial ‘pillar to post’
as the nuance of the leg of my body
like some orchestral arrangement
suggests a note here and a note there
of feeling stroke pain stroke blood vessel-operatic voice
– all delivered musically in the auditorium of my leg.
It feels this way, it feels that way,
it says stop and sit. It is told to stop and walk.
It presents a million lies as to
what is happening below the surface,
as though laughing:
‘I’ve got you, you ignorant,
Playing on my ignorance,
it shows me varicose vein mountain ranges
of curly wurly bar obtrusions as though to say:
‘What a mess, – you must concede,
– you must concede and submit.’
No. I will go on…go on in faith.