I am not interested <br />in my body- <br />the part that stinks <br />& rots & brings forth <br />life, <br />the part that the ground <br />swallows, <br />death giving birth <br />to death- <br />all of life, <br />considered <br />from the body's <br />point of view, <br />is a downhill slide <br />& all our small <br />preservatives <br />& griefs <br />cannot reverse the trend. <br /> <br />All sensualists <br />turn puritan <br />at the end- <br />turning up lust's soil <br />& finding bones <br />beneath the rich volcanic <br />dirt. <br /> <br />Some sleep in shrouds <br />& some in coffins; <br />some swear off <br />procreation, others turn <br />vegetarian, or worse: <br />they live on air- <br />on sheer platonic meals <br />of pure ideas; <br />once gluttons of the flesh, <br />they now become <br />gourmets of the mind. <br />How to resist that <br />when the spacious earth <br />swallows her children <br />so insatiably, <br />when all our space-age gods <br />are grounded, <br />& only the moan of pleasure <br />or the rasp of pain <br />can ever satisfy <br />the body's appetite? <br /> <br />& yet my body, <br />in its dubious wisdom, <br />led to yours; <br />& you may <br />puzzle out <br />this mystery in your turn. <br />Choose mind, choose body, <br />choose to wed the two; <br />many have tried <br />but few have done the deed. <br /> <br />Through you, perhaps, <br />I may at last succeed.<br /><br />Erica Jong<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/anti-matter-2/
