Frequently,
a reminder appears,
an app zap,

It's a good time to check your posture!
arrives with precise
ir~regularity,
when I,
couch prone
neck bent,
spine most unfine,
not in a good way,
it somehow knows,
which way my toes are curling

Got me a weighted vest,
to help me
grow down
straighter,
but realized,
already had one,
whole life long,
with the weights
maldistributed,
too heavy,
and the curvatures
of spine and line
was what made me
so unattractive,
were curved
with hard bad work
over decades,

Yes. Way to Late,
To be undone,
I Is What I
have become
undone by design
                                but I write not of my physicality, but
                          of mental posture, of my integrated thoughts,
                   the integrated consciousness of a lifetime of thoughts.
              deeds, desires, fires started and extinguished, acts summary,
as zeroes and ones, binaurally coded in my treasury of memory cells,
       edited by time, seasoned illusions, shame, with no recompense,
                totals of entirety and the totality of the net net of gains,
                          losses, courages *******, sticking points that
                                     unraveled by self~disassembling
                                     and the stench of actions untaken
                                    make me a bent soul, by ineffectual
                                    posturing, flim~flam, and eventually
                   the reminders to check my posture cease and desist,
                                            with no word of farewell,
                                               nor a pose left behind
                                                          ­    <…>