i want a new body, one 

which would walk me all the way to buy milk 

as if i had no body at all. a body 

which could disappear into the soft 

blue depths of morning, or 

the avenue’s bright spring, 

forgetting itself. a body 

which is like being upside-down, in the sense

that you are always upside-down, 

but to notice, when there

are gang-gangs hanging with 

their white-edged feathers, or 

bougainvillea branches trailing the pool fence,

wouldn’t cross your mind; a body 

which, like being upside-down, i would create

by rolling like a child until 

i could see it, and i would know 

its truth, even in 

its strangeness.