My Body's Resumé

As I declutter my apartment, my computer, my life I've remembered this other poem I've written in Fall 2008:

I floated in amniotic liquid in my mom's womb, duh.
Major getting thru, push out.
Lots of skirmishing, leg and arm thrashing,
often hollering, thus fortifying my lungs.
Walking. Running. Jumping. Kicking. Tree climbing. Hide&seeking.
Primary school P.E. calisthenics. Military instruction.
Learning swimming or bike riding forbidden as deadly dangers,
life-threatening activities, dictated mother.
Two years of amateurish modern dance classes.
Disco. Walking for hours into the woods and hills of my hometown,
then hiking rocky cliffs national monuments.
Dancing, daily one-hour fitness working on my poster-girl image.
Sex life starts. Sex life starts. Sex life starts.
Long distance running attempt ended with scary gall bladder/liver pains.
Awful sexual transgressions perpetrated upon her while running away to the big city. Gang rape.
Stops dancing, stops walking about; movement confined within the sacred space of theater hall. Exercises abs and face muscles for perfect voice, diction and projection.
The body is just a launching pad for her voice.
Bored with same daily drilling exercises.
Lots of carrying possessions, moving, suitcases.
Sex, marriage, pregnancy. Sex, pregnancy. Sex, pregnancy.
Strenuous 8-10 kilometer walks around the lake dragged
by well-meaning cuckoo husband.
Birth giving, shattering pain.
Holding the baby, pushing the stroller.
Sex again. Cuckoo husband attacks!
Again possessions, suitcases, running for dear life.
Crossing the border to a better country, a larger city. Divorce.
Learns swimming. Finds it demanding, so unlike romantic movies.
Prefers lazing in hot thermal water, but French boyfriend and son need lively company every second evening in the swimming pool.
Carrying journalistic bags filled with papers and tape recorders.
Experimental Sex Academy Frenchman. Goes on for three good years.
Boxes, suitcases. Gone to America. Louisiana.
Again pushing, shoving furniture.
Real photo camera. Nights of excited standing oblivious in the darkroom.
Learns to ride a bike. Joyful feeling of freedom ends in fear when thugs honking, bike falls, knee injury.
Learns driving, speeding. Road rage thugs on the highway. Stops driving.
Boxes, furniture. East Coast. New Jersey Desert.
Sex, theater, sex, theater, darkroom pictures.
Pushing, carrying, pushing, carrying. New York City!
Meets salsa maestro who insists on dancing. Hilarious failing attempt.
Sex profuse.
Pushing, carrying possessions. Fighting him back in ambushes/matches of jealousy, street performance! Boxing. Jostling. Police presence, referee.
Sex forbidden as deadly danger, life threatening activity, dictated by AIDS scourge.
Pushing, carrying possessions. Pushing, carrying possessions. Furniture.
Metabolism change? Delayed maturity?!
Body eats, eats, loading 20 extra pounds.
Attempts to exercise irregular. Lazing on Brighton Beach sand.
Walking along the waves barefoot.
Knee injury painful.
Tendency to clutter space
to avoid her body's needs for movement, expression.
Hanging out with selfish dancers for body awakening purposes.
Sex still forbidden as deadly danger, life-threatening activity, thus lots of artsy sublimation.
Fancying a man again. Terrified of herself on video screen.
Fasting. Shedding 10 pounds in two months.
Disillusion. Putting back 15 pounds.
Disturbing couch potato tendencies.
Gardening. Walking in Central Park.
Shoving, pus
Back from Motherland: donating, donating boxes of possessions to charities.
Meets less selfish dancer who makes her do monkey dances with him.

Gets Rec. Center membership. Buys her first pair of sneakers.
Goes to physician for knee injury clarification.
Danger of amputation? Nah, paranoia.
Swimming. Gym. Muscle machines. Dancing. Endorphins.
Deep deep sleep. Swinging in the hammock of summer.
Why not decades ago swim, dance, deep deep sleep? Well, now.
Awake. Alive.

Well, here you have it: If you’d like to throw a bit of money my way to keep my endeavors going, and also enable me to spread the money to my various causes, witnessing democracy, freedom of speech and faith, and engineering social change thru art being some of them, I’d be grateful.

New York
October 1st, 2013

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