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Give Me Back My Body

Give me back my body

the way it was, at twenty-three;

give me back my hunger;

give me, immortality.

Give me back my plastic surgeon;

make me live like Joan of Arc;

give me life and bullets and ammunition;

give me the Torah and its Ark.

Give me freedom from communion;

give me, Beauty and the Beast;

give me war, and peace, and liberation;

it's all worthless, once you've been released.

Give me sex and crackheads and coke;

and give me your stupid vaccine, whatever the fuck its name;

give me honesty and retribution;

give me, someone else to blame.

Give me crime, and give me thugs,

and give me all the President's men;

give me Brahms and give me Schubert;

just don't say, we ever need to meet again.

I'm not saying, I never wanna see ya;

all I'm saying is that our time is up;

whatever once was, was there to greet ya;

it's all down now by the bottom of your paper cup.


From "The Womb" by Daniel Viragh

All rights reserved.


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