do not let this universe regret you!!

no sleep yet! and im making the universe in each moment.  she has very long legs, and ankles whose hair brushed against mine. we cooked naked in the kitchen this morning, nothing dangerous like popping grease, only egg sandwiches with cheese.  we smoked cigarettes on the hardwood floor and sang “Hairspray” and read horoscopes. we walked and put worms back in dirt and then…


when i came upon a very new favorite author Marty McConnell–“Instructions for a Body”. i dont know you yet (but maybe i do in some sort of cosmic or past life way) but if your heart beats this will make it beat faster, your skin rise up, and your soul ache for it’s justice.

since i couldnt find the transcript online, ive done it up here. kindly let me know if there are mistakes!

[note: not my own writing in any way shape or form, though god i wish it was!]

[also: im not sure where punctuation, line breaks, etc or even if spoken word should ever be written down…so some liberty taken. all credit, love, praise, gifts, and support–here please: ]

praise the miracle body. the odd, and undeniable mechanics of hand, hundred bone foot, perfect stretch of tendon, tell me there are no gods then no master plan for this anatomy with its mobile and evident spark. someone says children of light, and another goddess fragment, and another chosen. a dozen makers myriad paths one goal. some scalpel some chisel some crazed sentimental engineer giving rib giving eye lash giving gut and thumb all mattering all sat down in a world vulnerable and divine. in the beginning there was the word. or before time there was a void until a voice said i and was or there was star and dust explosion and animal, mineral, us. praise the veins that river these wrists. praise the prolapsed valve in the heart. praise the scars marking your gallbladder absent. praise the rasp and rattle of functioning lungs. praise the pre-arthritic ache of elbows, and ankles. praise the lifeline sectioning a palm. praise the photographic pads of finger tips. praise the vulnerable dip at the base of a throat. praise the muscles on an abdomen. praise these arms that carry babies and anthologies. praise the leg hairs that sprout and are shaved. praise the ass that refuses to shrink or be hidden. praise the cunt that bleeds and accepts. bleeds and accepts. praise the prominent ridge of nose praise the strange convexity of rib cage. praise the single hair that insists on growing from a right areola. praise the dent where the mole was clipped from the back of a neck. praise these inner thighs brushing, praise these eyelashes that sometimes turn inward, praise these hips preparing to spread into a grandmothers skirt, praise the beauty of the freckle on the first knuckle of a left little finger; were gone. in a blizzard of seconds love the body human while were here. a gift of minutes on an evolving planet. a country in flux. give thanks. what we take for granted bone and dirt. and the million things that will kill us some day. motion and the pursuit of happiness, no guarantees, give thanks for chaos theory, ecology, common sense that sense that we are web in balance or out, that butterfly in Tokyo setting off thunder storms in Iowa. the one vote, becoming 7 becoming 548 twisting the fate of a nation, tell me you don’t matter to a universe that conspired to give you such a tongue, such rhythm, or rhythm those hips, such opposable  thumbs, give thanks or go home a waste of spark, speak or let the maker take back your throat, march or let the creator rescind your feet, dream or let your god destroy your good fragile mind. this is your warning, this your birthright, do not let this universe regret you.


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