Life seems to prepare the well-trodden road for me
I as a good mental patient
I throw boulders upon it so large
To create obstacles worthy of medals for me,
If I could overcome them.
I live with grace
While I crave the difficulty within every muscle fiber
I fear the already lived, the prepared
I want works out of my hands
Earning my living by my bread.
Hearing from below the earth
The moon singing reading the notes on the stars.
Up in the morning
body a puzzle
with various layers
going in and out of
this dimension
Liver enraged
legs projecting
a different plane of reality
than the arms
Muscle fiber groups
looking for their chorus
to sing a symphony
instead playing a lot of solos
Spleen laughing hysterically
at what
no one knows
least of all the brain
which keeps sending signals
that no one wishes to hear
Bowels and guts
keep making fun
of each others'
names and comportment
Kidneys about
to break through the damn
despite the bladder paying its taxes
to keep the water out
Nervous system
does not have the heart
to grieve
this state of affairs
Noises and strange motions
coming from everywhere
going nowhere fast
Joints at wrong angles
each one
blaming the other
and the pillow
Then a loud yawn
and breakfast is served