The body corporate—a poem
Once your home was wet and squeezy
your only duty was to grow
until she said it’s over, out you go.
A trusty home is always ours
this tender leather pouch
of senses, cells and energies.
This is my body, it’s starting to leak
it’s past its peak
the pipes are clogging
the windows are fogging
its value is dropping
it’s far from fully earthquake-proof.
Some day this body’s gonna be
the Human Body Corporate Committee
(my children and me and my GP)
will have to agree
on the long term maintenance
and disposal of this body singular
the one I rent for life, for free
the one that houses me.
For every change in my dear old body there is an equivalent in the apartment that has been my home for 36 years. In both, the cost of maintenance mounts every year—and both respond to a communal effort. For my body, my executors, for the apartment block, the Body Corporate.
9 thoughts on “The body corporate—a poem”
The one I rent for life for free! Never looked at it that way before. Love this!
Lucky us huh!
Nice picture too.
You touch all the beautiful buttons dear Rachel. And cheers to my Body Corporate too!
Prue, thank you from the bottom of my body’s heart!
Enjoyable! (As much as aging can be) I’m going to try to learn it by heart, so I can ward off the glooms.
I am thrilled with your reply.
I think I need to renegotiate some terms with my landlord!
Good luck with that!