The Great Divide
Though I quit smoking,
been living clean, greet each day
with sun salutations
and green smoothie,
I can’t expect to get off scot-free.
That’s not how the body works.
The cells remember,
and they are patient —
they wait for you to find
your life’s purpose,
learn of that new grand baby
due in seven months time,
start over with a better partner
than you deserve,
finally retire from that soul-sucking job,
sign the contract for
your first published book —
biding time stewing
in the body’s bile
until you breathe easily again,
then on some moon-ordained night
they messily divide,
uncoupling like young lovers
caught in flagrante delicto
by a stern parent, hand on light switch,
who’s returned home
too soon.
9 thoughts on "The Great Divide"
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” uncoupling like young lovers ”
Brilliant metaphor.
Ahh, this is fabulous.
We are what we eat
and drink and smoke
and inhale and chew.
By the time we learn
how to live…
it’s too late.
As all your poems are,
this is great. Congrats
on the book.
Thanks, Jim. A point of clarification, no book yet. I’m in the running in a Chapbook contest. Made a few cuts and hopeful I can make a few more!
“The cells remember” captures how it’s always there. Well done!
Your work is reaching high levels of sophistication, my friend. And the courage it took to take such an honest accounting of your highs and lows. Can’t wait to read the book!
That final image is so great and I love the ironic balance of tone here with the end of the first stanza. Really fabulous!
Love how this poem builds! You are so good!
“The cells remember,
and they are patient —”
I quit smoking many many years ago, but when I happen to pass someone who is, something inside me sits up and says hello there!
Loved how this poem set the scene and ended on some moon ordained night!