[I am a body—I am]
I am a body—I am
contained by flesh, and, therefore, I am separate from flesh.
Where does the
passenger go if lifted from the body by violence or old age?
I am a passenger,
body riding along the crest of a wave of bodies,
this vehicle contained
in a vehicle of many, absorbed in many. The
steering’s gone out in this
vehicle, passenger strapped to her seat like
she’s in the electric chair, tourist
of her life. The soul rides in the body,
the body rides this nebulous force—
we learned the word “hegemony”
in sociology class and my roommate kept asking
to return to our
professor’s office to have it explained. It is the body
of our body, the vehicle’s
vehicle, I’d tell her now, having ridden along so wonderfully
compliant. The body
is rent from the passenger like teeth tear at a meal.
We rend the food from itself
in order to absorb it in ourself.
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