A Psychosomatic Response to 2025

The physical therapist
shows me exercises,
but I tell her I am
Stretched Too Thin
ENOUGH ALREADY!
So she digs into the mechanics
of my Bracing for the Worst
and attempts to allay the
places where I am
Holding on for Dear Life —
god bless their
white-knuckle grip
and control efforts —
INCOMING!
My shoulders, for example,
find comfort near my ears these days
perhaps to hear
which of the Invading Forces
will surge today,
while my back has decided it —
and it alone —
will hold me upright and steady
so as not to fall headfirst
into the Thick of It All;
apparently my glutes
are sitting this one out,
and lord knows my knees
won’t hold us up —
they’ve just about given up or out,
having carried the burden of this
ALL OF THIS
for way too long;
even the feet are fed up
FUCK YOU!
says my big toe,
the Last Line of Defense;
the only Saving Grace these days
is way up at the top
where words and ideas and
creative Escape Routes
are lighting up the sky!