[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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