Hospitals and schools
invite the poets
without exploitation
without making them
objects of more attention
than each wants to be.

Poetry may solve equations of fear and distrust
through the rhythm of breath and the will of the tongue
in performance of the poet’s life sentence.

Under the spell of medical intervention
and educational mainstreaming
come children with empty eye sockets
and fistfuls of stumps.

the machine
continues with the world
and the words sing
over and again
in the house
of thought.

this is the work
of the writer moving
the machine moving
the world
hunched over
his back bent forward
his elbows at his side
his feet entangled
the left foot
circles the right

I come from the bed
recalling my fears
of where I am
not the body, but
an idea –
the many combinations
and aspirations
of passions
enlightened
by sublime desire.

We live
in the certainty of
our time
here, near
the body awakening
from deep dreams
seeking form
and responsibility.

I am
of the masses
of the many shapes of the world
born of this time
this moment

this is the body
the body is the world
and the masses of bodies
the continents and
colors of man
and the waters of life

break out
this time
from the inhumane
glory and gifts of the machine

and we will be the wills
and the whys and the freedom
of each other
we will be the chains and hates
the loves and skies

the itches and aches
loves and losses
fatigue or rejoicing
loving and hating
celebrating innocence
acknowledging experience

this is the cry of the body
from an inner voice
awaiting the budding leaves

returning with the undertow
to the awaiting seas --
the body is drawn to the bodies
crossing avenues
and the crowds in the square

frightened the body turns
upon itself and finds
the strength
of daylight the body
moves step
upon step

the youth
grows in form
and in sense
beyond the stars
that move the body

the body as reflection

here
in the uncertain
the certain
coming into the world
torso and limbs –
the body
is the world

we make poetry out of
oxygen and carbon
the chemistry of
the body

air from lungs
rises through larynx
making the noise
that is the voice

air reacts with blood and lung
the voice comes after

the space that is part of
the inner body

when the air inside
wishes to come out

word after word
comes from our lungs

we breathe
our sentences

the air
holds our vocabulary

the air
produces the sound of words

I celebrate
the in and out

I sit and write
poetry about breathing

the constrictor tightens its grip

into the wind bags of the body
keeping company with heart, stomach, and liver

blocking the free flow of air
down the throat