i need a tune up. my spine
and other bodily accouterments
are almost comfortable. sometimes
i am too aware of my bones,
how my knees click
as i ascend stairs and how much gum
i chewed today. my jaw hurts.
other times, i understand
that i am a house.
my paintings hang on walls
off kilter (only the guests
notice it). i don't know how to
get around to it, but i think i'm worried.
what you put in is what you get out,
a wise-eyed guest tells me. but i can't
remember what we had for dinner.
it's diffusing from me.
for once this disharmony is not
the off-centeredness of being drunk,
nor the intensity of heartbreak.
i wish it was; the two problems solve each other.
worry is indefinite, vermin scritching behind a wall,
and i cannot figure out where it is coming from.