calisthenics

the mind! the mime!

we’re poor hackers. if it goes well, it takes the better half

of our lives to crack the code,

figure out the soul’s alphanumeric sequence & break in.

minutes, however, for its alarm to go off,

if we succeed,

for the heart to shut down, change the password,

& lock us out of ourselves, once more.

add to the mix the fact that america the beautiful

no longer feels like home-field advantage,

& the body with its case sensitive story,

well-documented history,

the toilet with its latest toy sending us mixed messages,

texting or tweeting us at inopportune times.

& we have ourselves not a ballgame but another blowout,

8 to 0 score.

we have ourselves —oh, the horror! the horror!

the case for another happy pill,

for another private joke

or another lap around our own penrose steps.

which is not the way to get in shape,

to induce muscle failure.

c. a. campos, 2011