The Hands
I am raised for example
I am raised for something new
I am raised because I am better
Than hand number one
Or hand number two
The Feet
I stumble like a mumbled word
With a halting half step
I don’t have enough knee
For the size of the man who rides
And his body mechanics are misaligned
*
My lady stares at me
Wondering what happened
I used to be so cute
Her thoughts confer
While I bear the traces
Of hairy knuckled brutes
The Legs
We carry the brain to its employer
And rest under the desk
Sure to be ready to sprint
To the front of the line
So the elbows can make room
for a sandwich at lunchtime
The Arms
We used to be bare
she would
Show us off
with our muscle tone
and faint velvety hair
*
We are formed
By his lack of labor
And a fatty diet
Chicken wings
Match the resembling
And in the kitchen his motto is
Just fry it!
*
We flap like
Garments stretched on sticks
As the hands
flap out the clothes
Before folding
and patting them
With two taps
*
We are the same size
Forearm and bicep
We strain to lift
Bags of groceries
And dinner plates
Just a few more things
About him she hates
*
The Body
I am linked palm with palm, four hands
I am feet stumbling with rhythm, four feet
My steps neither too short
Nor too long
I am thighs and calves, four legs
Between coming and gone
I am arms reaching out, four arms
For what is given