Genesis of a Poem

Many years ago, I think it was shortly after Isabel was born, but we were having the poetry readings in a youth hostel near Výstaviště, and at the previous reading a friend had given me a poem of his (which had bombed terribly) and asked me to edit it. I think he was expecting something a little less drastic. The original piece presented an interesting thought, which was why do we represent the heart as a symbol of love when it is essentially an organ of the body, why do we romanticize the moon when it is essentially a rock floating in space. But, it was filled with whole paragraphs of scientific information and nomenclature, was a few pages long, and didn’t really flow as a poem.
I reduced it to a sonnet.
This morning, as I got up to go to the bathroom, I thought about how our bodies trigger our decisions throughout our lives. We may decide, in our heads, who to marry, but we never would have been with them, perhaps might have never even known them, if our bodies weren’t sending us signals.
In a very real sense, we are what we eat. For some reason, my palette is particularly attracted to sweets, and fatty foods. I love the side bits of bacon as much as the middle, the skin of the chicken just as much as the inner flesh and, even as an adult, cotton candy (that’s candy floss to you Brits) is my idea of heaven on a stick. And it shows, in the physical world, because we do, in a real if not totally literal sense, become what we eat.
Our bodies make a ton of decisions throughout our day to day lives, when we get on to a train, do we stand up or sit down, do we go out in the evening or are we, by that time, too immersed in the couch to get up, decisions which affect everything that follows, all of the roads not taken are taken over by the one which was, which was probably decided by your body.
It was an interesting thought, but all I wrote was this:

Our bodies make the decisions
far more than our heads
if I didn’t have to pee
I wouldn’t get out of bed

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