Tuesday poem #170 : Kate Hargreaves : (practice)

push a little juiciness into your shoulders
relax your toenails
and sink your eyelashes into their roots
wiggle your shins almost like you were a ladybird
and press your collarbones firmly into the foundations of the building
spread your toes shoulder-width, best as you can
arch your forehead
and relax every little hair in your nose
as if they'd had a couple glasses of a good sangria
pull your teeth into your chest
letting go of any panic when you
open your knees wide and
backhand the person to your right
roll up up up one follicle at a time
and pause here
cultivating the blood in your ears
ankles swelling
take inventory of your itchy cheek
and if you must move, decide to scratch
pool your cracking bones
the roll escaping your exercise pants
the zipper boring through your lower back
the thong shifting too far left between your ass cheeks
the snot crusting in your left nostril
and fluttering with each out-breath
the eyelash sleep gunk gluing together on the outer corner
the sock fuzz under your baby toenail
the hairs pushing through the skin of your armpits
take stock of the weight of your scars
wriggle your lips
let go of your bowels
check in with your ribs
and thank yourself for this practice.

Kate Hargreaves is a writer, freelance book designer, cat lady, and roller derby skater living in Windsor, Ontario. Her most recent book is a collection of poetry, Leak (BookThug). Visit her at CorusKate.com or tweet her @PainEyre.

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan