Monday, May 5, 2008

I know how to use them.

One day I woke up and my legs no longer worked.

It didn't feel like they were broken,
or ill,
it more felt like my legs were
depressed.

Trust my legs to
be so fucking sensitive.

Anyway,
that morning I crawled along the carpet
and ran a bath, thinking
I'd treat my legs to something special,
a soak, some candles,
I could feel my feet getting excited about it,
but my legs remained silent,
even as the bubbles swallowed
all my other guys, my toes
my fingers and even my nose.

What's wrong with you, legs?
I asked.
What's wrong with you?

And the strangest thing,
two eyes on my thighs
caught me by surprise
and two mouths in my knees
had me glued to my seat
(my rump, he never complains)
and they both said in unison:

We've forgotten our friend,
we've forgotten what to do.
Do you know what that feels like?

God yes, I said,
yes I really fucking do.

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