standing we’ll sing a rational anthem,
clamping our hands flat firm to our chests over the locations
where we believe our hearts to be.
yes they’re there fluttering and pumping.
we sing.
we feel in our palms the thumping of those hearts,
feel in our bones over ribs and sternums the buzzy
vibrations of our voices as so loudly we hail
the triumph of every well-considered thought and aptly-planned act.
we sing the body mechanic,
ever fruitful in its justly-measured ways.
we stop our song precisely when it’s done,
returning our hands to our sides.
our bones now quiet,
we sit,
scarcely feeling what may as well be our hearts.
(Copyright 2023 by Tetman Callis.)