Physiology (Part V of the Arts & Sciences series)

I am made of hands at the end of my arms

I am armed shoulder-like, shoulder-width



a head

tethered unconvincingly

wobble wobbles

trying to vertical-line to a middle






production of a head-ache


sea-sick between twos

like nostrils, nipples, knees

down to a couple of feet apart

marching on orders

through the articulations


hip-hip poor-pot-am-us

all the way round

back and forth

with itself to itself

roundabout a standing

everything I take with me

plus the minus of forgetting

around abouts

one rounded up

as bellybuttoned as allusions to a cut-off point

the whole body

or starting point of an already-fattened


joined up wheels


to be able to go again


hip-high pot his is

ran-sacked by urgencies unfinished

as cyclical as circular

pushed on by a pulling off

dismemberment cauterised and redoubled through good and bad organisation

(which from which not always obvious)

knee-deep in it

to the finger tipping-point

of a touch that shocks

and a pokey extension in turn sensitive to the touch


shot-maker, shock-repeater

current conductor of an electrical leaking


electricity of life


I am, body

nascent within a distance

to shock and be shocked

shoot after shot


but back and forth

first times after a first time never quite yet been

in readiness to know

what all the feelings mean


the break-up

the make-up

the disembodiment of organisation

before re-swallowed by the sweaty pocket-warmth of the ultimate sensitivity

where the half i am is properly absorbed

and whence I was originally spat out and buttoned

come full circle

without being able to fill anything up


at the sake of the diminishment of the body

but not the head-ache feeling

which just metastasises

walking the body through the irreversibility of its forwardness

always back turned to a world of surprises

the relationship of contact


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