A Sharp Insight

Fully reclined for cleaning, and agape
somewhat uncomfortably—Please tilt this way—
I shift, and offer something like a grunt
while doing squats and stretches with my tongue.
I’m casting wildly in the passing stream
of thought for some big fish to pull my mind
away, a run distracting me from this.
I’m just dropping your head, is that okay?

I’ll go with anything that works, like books
I haven’t read, say—oh, Guns, Germs and Steel.
I’ve only read the blurbs, but that’s enough.
Right now I’d rather not reflect on guns,
but hey, I’ve got some germs and steel right here.
Let’s have a rinse, would you like warm or cool?
I like it cool. And how long has it been
since we were spitting into porcelain?
It’s clever, how they suck the blood away.
How are you, would you like to rinse again?

You could say evolution brought this point
of antiseptic, acrobatic steel
that’s pushing on my jaw and holds me still.
Civilization is a coverage plan,
a certifying board, some expertise
expressed with gentleness and confidence,
hot water and a pair of latex gloves,
and something better than a pointed stick.

Long generations of opposing thumbs
were chipping arrowheads and whittling clubs,
then hacked apart the stones to reach the ore
and shoveled coal for red-hot furnaces.
Without much rest, they poured the molten ore,
they pushed and broke apart a million forms,
they bent themselves to levers and to wheels
to get this tool, delivered on a truck,
that’s guided by a firm, hygienic hand.

I’ll have to check the book for what I missed,
but must surrender where I am for now,
since I am pinned, and cannot fight or flee.