by Jonathan Hunter-Kilmer
the swelling seems to have gone down
the stab less sharp
from shriek to frown
a weakening
perhaps
fatigue
is easier now to appease
a rest
the back flat on the floor
the shoulder
wobbles
tendons loose
make bones articulate
produce
a twinge, a spasm, then black out
and cause my crumbling spine to doubt
priorities
a corset tight
and what position may be right
the medication just for hurt
is useless
as is loosened shirt
I smear hot ointment where my reach
allows
and make my muscles teach
the nerves to quiet down
and slip
back into place
lest raw bone chip
and tear
the tendon and the nerve
for deadness will no purpose serve
unless
I can resign myself
to one more group put on the shelf
of body parts I cannot use
two fingers, three toes
all confused
so I no longer will depend
on any nerve to be a friend
but compensate
as You have taught
for what some agony has wrought
if this can't feel or that can't bend
then stop and find a way to end
the need
to live from day to day
knowing what works, what cell will stay
what blood will reach, synapse relay
the message I must get from You
comes not from my flesh grinding through
the thresher mortal life can be
but filtered by what my soul sees
and hears and otherwise reports
as my mind from Yours all truth sorts
I'll let go of my flesh complaints
in Your grace I have no restraints
for I seek nothing but Your love
the sheeth of my flesh like a glove
stripped off and freeing Your love's soul
to swim in pure delight's warm shoal
