Collecting clouds

If only I had that extra set of arms
Life, as I know it, would have been a different boxing match.
I’d field life’s punches and stick in some of my own.
I’d feint and hook; I’d counterpunch
And maybe even learn to do a bolo.

If only I had that extra set of arms
I’d have known how to handle what life throws at me
With just one retreat into my corner.
I’d handle unemployment, a surprise baby and angst of where I am going
All with one power punch.

If only I had that extra set of arms
My crochet would have been complete while I wrote a blog entry
And email Puri a ‘happy birthday’. I’d be able to fry the onions,
Not burn them, while I chopped tomatoes.
Domesticity calls for extra limbs and innovation.

If only I had that extra set of arms
I’d be able to do unspeakable things in bed.
I’d be able to touch skin and toussle hair while I remove
A book jabbing into the small of my back
While the fourth hand was straying and unpredictable.

If only I had that extra set of arms
Life, as I know it, would have been a different Hindu mythology.
Like a goddess, I’d dangle a head or two by the hair,
And with the other hand I’d bless someone to bounteous ever-after
All the while using two other hands to ward fools off.

If only I had that extra set of arms
I’d fly a plane, weigh a different weight,
Live in a different city, own a home near the sea.
Dive with dolphins, sing like a dream, follow Neruda
To whichever heaven he lives in.

2 thoughts on “Collecting clouds

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