I am not my body…

A Deck of Pornographic Playing Cards

We were ten or eleven, my friend and I,
when we found them up under a bridge,
on top of a beam where pigeons were resting.
Someone had carefully hidden them there.
On each was a black-and-white photo,
no two cards alike. We grew quiet and older,
young men on our haunches, staring at
what we feared might be the future.
The pigeons flapped back to their roosts,
rustling and cooing. The river gurgled
as it slipped from the bridge’s cool shadow.
There were women with big muzzled dogs,
women with bottles and broom handles.
Stallions stood over the bodies of others.
The women smiled and licked their lips
with tongues like thorns. We grew old.
We were two old men with stiff legs
and sad hearts. We had wanted to laugh
but we couldn’t. We had thought we were boys,
come there to throw stones at the pigeons,
but we were already dying inside.
Ted Kooser
in Weather Central

 

Jeanne Poland in 2019

 

I am not my body

but holy outrage too

passionate beliefs-

that straddle the universe

golden light –

from my third eye to the tip of my toes

divinity-

that renders me eternal and able to transform

my body is a humble servant-

loyal for generations and sculpted by my tribe

Jeanne Marie Margaret DeLoca  Sr Virginia Mary of Christ  Poland  Smith

 

4/22/19

quicksilver