Lucy M Logsdon
You think you will get used
to the accumulation of loss,
(your spine, left hand, right foot,
twisted ribs), but your asymmetry
sharpens, crooks. Something’s
broken inside, a sharp razor blade
rattling about, a loose screw, a wire crossed.
The on switch turns everything off.
You can hammer your hand,
feel nothing. Pain circuits require
repair; you require repair.
Behold the transformation.
You coin yourself: Electrician of My Body.
Order the tool belt, manuals, supplies.
A body rebuilt is a monster better.
This time, you’ll max that village out.