Tuesday, April 08, 2008

NaPoWriMo 8

My Body After Kids

Sags everywhere.
Looks like a chicken
in a butcher’s storefront.
Wet tea bags for breasts,
oatmeal for thighs, as if
my old self was recalled
and I was given this.
See how my body
redistributes itself
cell by cell by cell
into a new circumference,
almost global? My hands
once bright as fans
used to envelop the dusk
and twirl in dance. Now they
belong to a shape shifter—
someone called out of one world
and thrown into another.

5 comments:

jillypoet said...

Oh so sad, so true! But, truly worth it, no? I particularly like the lines about the hands. Very fanciful, wistful.

ps: speaking of recalls...yesterday we went to McDonald's (I know, bad, bad, bad) and ordered apple dippers instead of fries, apple juice instead of soda. Would you believe they were out of both and the apple dippers had been recalled? They didn't answer when I asked why!

Jenn said...

oh how i can relate. this is a topic for both poems and scrapbooks alike. your past few poems have been amazing!!

RachelW said...

But it comes back, that elasticity, that tone... it really does! Honest! Well, at least most of it... ;) I'm enjoying your poems; keep them coming!

January said...

Hi Rachel. Very true about tge elasticity.

To be honest, that's not really me in the poem. The only accurate description is the tea bags. I work out most of the time but the images are so universal I couldn't resist.

Hope to visit your blog later tonight.

Ananda said...

amazing images.... i can see them all. i adore these lines....

Wet tea bags for breasts,
oatmeal for thighs, as if
my old self was recalled
and I was given this.
See how my body
redistributes itself
cell by cell by cell
into a new circumference,
almost global?

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