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
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