Waking the Body

Might sodium pentothal work or perhaps amnesia,
a clean slate, no shame, no idea –
(is there?) – of lacking…

Anyhow, any… where is my mind,
the fuzz fizz floating off: oceans of blood
baths, interrupted wet dreams…

Don’t they have pills for this, those wondrous
gelatinous coats, & the stimulus of boxes?

Here is your slot. Just scoop yourself in.
Take no notice of those screams down the hall;
that’s only the television. Now why do I shake?

Too much coffee. Put out that cigar. Don’t be an idiot.
It might remind me of something. An exam dream.
That’s all it was. It simply included the flesh

where you’ve been put in each curve, every cell,
wearing my own insides out because yours’

must stay hidden, awake in this body, I know,
though they question,

& memory
& forgetting,

love, what is receding into everything
which overlaps?