Morphosis (the next time you see me, I’ll be gone)


[This flesh of womb unwanted / First given by his mother
This chest intact with heart inside / Now’s taken by another]



See him setting
Out the stall
Of a mind that’s lost its tether

As though now cutting
Through the skin
To make ideas from leather

He takes a hand
That’s rarely served
Fingers four and thumb

He holds it close
Before his face
Removes it from the sum

The feet, the toes
The ankles free
All left to walk alone

No longer does it
Bother him
To lose what was his own

The protruded nose
Becomes detached
Falls through his mouth and chin

His teeth corrode
The ears unwind
His tongue is turning in

The blood is dry
The sinews stretched
The marrow’s all undone

The eyes alone
Remain in place
To see what he’s become

Devoid, bereft
Removed, without
The body is soon gone

Yet what is left
The memory
At peace is moving on


for Roy Hardy