Purple Pelvis Poetry,
Memory is not mind over matter.
That is to say, the memory of our mind does not matter
more than that of our body.
Journey with me, imagine you—able to fit finely into yourself—
Go within, inhale until you drop to the base of your air balloon.
Ride the exhale
back to your sternum.
Grab on, quickly climb up to c1.
Let go, abandon caution
spiraling down the costal cage.
Float until you see your spine
Gently mature to the iliac crest
Slide down the ilium to
Rest on this flowered floor
Hammock like holding, rocking, stable.
Archived in our fascia
joy and grief.
What more than is there to record?
Literally our literacy is deep
Living, hidden, like bone
We articulate with our ancestors
Learning knowledge woven strong like fibers
History layered until its seen superficial
Push, and Peek over the pubis
Dive diagonal to the right patella
Sit and see
100 workers positioned at 31 stations
Mingle with the metatarsals
they might mention where you are going next.
The body knows, the mind learns how to interpret that knowing.