“Underneath the Occipital Bone” by Deborah Wood
There are countless examples, such as there are twenty-four vertebrae for the twenty-four hours in a day. There is enthusiasm and he was on Judge Judy. There is Mrs. Dalloway buying the flowers herself. There are ventricles & channels and crimes of gaucherie. There are people dying in alphabetical order. And if you use ampersands I will sleep with you on the third date. There are tendons, ligaments, & bones, each more important than the next. Also, when they say symphony of flavors do they mean it? There are locations and things originate. There is cracked vinyl but still playing that song. There are conversations & conventions. Find a new form. There are three hundred pound cows being butchered at the museum in the name of futurism and Isadora Duncan’s scarf. There is me and I climb mountains & outdoor sculpture & lawn ornaments. This is that. There are countless examples of Parisian poems. There are swim coach drownings, and then interstitial fluid. Congestion. There are counted breaths. There is a balanced suspension in the spine. There are pictures of me crying. Sometimes things are multiplied by ten. Sometimes things are divided by twenty and rounded off. There are epicureans and bodies battered by wants. I am digital palpitation. I am diaphragm domed. I am ergonomically designed. There are cadaver labs. There is the hairpin curve of the birth canal. This is a tribute. You know who you are. There are alternating zones of hard and soft tissue. Here is the spinal column. We are a hidden pact.
Copyright © Deborah Wood, 2010
