Hands of Helen Freeman
I start to rub my hands together
Creating heat and my fingers
Wiggle into life as they
Grasp tools already in place.
For there is no beginning
To my bones….
They stretch on through time
An endless inner structure
To all my creativity
Standing me up to tasks.
For I am beyond bipedal
‘Cause I’m bipedalling my ass off
Giving myself a swift paddle
In the behind.. in the bowl of life,
While its slippery noodle soup
Wraps its sticky pasta
Around my weak-ass heart.
I pinch a fork between my finger bones
And scoop life up, hot baby, real hot
Life is a real burner.
For I learned a long while back
That life doesn’t simmer
It bakes and boils, fries shit up, then
Hides in the fridge, behind the beer
Until it surprises you with leftovers
You see, that’s not a worry, ‘cause baby,