The Body Personal

The body-personal will be achieving little today. Today is a too tight T-shirt. Bloat and insomnia have measured and found soft round toads croaking in the swamp of being. There are squawky oral articulations in dry joints. A fate has made its presence known revealing pre-set mousetraps strewn upon the path of well laid plans; it warns obliquely of dentures mechanically nibbling on stale cheese. Knowing the hours will belch and empty-out air that could have breathed new life into words, Perceiving that chattering mind-children will cross the distracted mind without a crossing guard, be bowled over, squashed, spread over neural highways, their scant electric membranes dissolving and denuded leaving a sticky residue over the body personal... then that body must retire and regroup into a proto-cognizance, a glow of phosphorescence too primal to be snared, yet able to predict when it can get out of itself - hopefully.