Fashioning the Body: Versions of the Citizen, the Self, and the Subject

#1

I can see your retina floating in the empty space between your forehead and your hair.
how do you walk with all six legs of yours?
it’s a quarter after the hour.
no wait, that watch has been stopped for decades. I have no idea
it is with your eyes, under the stairs or in the closet on the shelf behind you
resting on some couch, the end of it, near the wrist is purple and blotchy as if it were bruised in the severing
waves to me
it waits for you in some dark attic
where is your other hand?
the current which courses through your circuits is no different than that which coursees through those of any other woman.
soft hair and skin
you, universal different from any other woman
a fold, a ripple in no dance and no water
it would be a glitch
if G-d came and blew away with a single breath all you know,

#2

the object’s ability to function is not based on what is “there.” there is something there that is totally not there.  the pressence of something that does not have a form.  in order for he ritual to be effective.  they are also an extension of my femininity.  I bring out the feminine pressence of G-d in my on self in order to find it on my arm, on my head, and in the room with me.

#3

As I was floating down the street one day, I saw a park full of trees.  As it was a lovely fall day all the leaves were begginning to change their colors.  the leaves fell from the trees and driffted gracefully toward the ground.  I floated along through this enchanting scenery when suddenly, “FFFFFT!”
    “Oh my! Excuse me,” said a lovely young whoopie cusion.  
    “I’m terribly sorry, I was distracted by the foliage,” I said, flustered.
    “I didn’t see you either, I’m such a noodle head, I’m so sorry.”
    “There’s no harm done.  though it appears we are both a bit deflated.”
    “So we are.”
    “Since we are both alone, perhaps you would like to jion me on my walk?”
    The whoopie blushed and said, “I would like that very much.”
    We walked down through the park to the pond and sat down on a bench.  We spent many hours laughing and talking.  Before we knew it the sun was beginning to set.  
    “Oh my!” said the other whoopie, “I didn’t realise it was so late! I really must be getting home.”
    “May I walk you home?” I asked.
    “Certainly.” said the other whoopie.  And off we walked, down the road into the sunset.