(beneath all that)

somehow i thought it would be difficult

singer songwriter

painter performer artist

the pictures never looked like me

young and handsome, muscles lightly dancing

in shadow and light

effortless, easy, those youthful bodies

not what i saw in the mirror.

she hangs onto the microphone like a lifeline

he bends his head in awareness

of dozens (someday millions?) of fans watching him

Sing of love and hate

heartstrings playing out on the steel strung guitar

(did they ever mean what they say?)

it never looked like

me

And then

I drew

pictures of myself - visions

i keep holding microphones

close to my mouth

(i don't think i was remembering you)

And now this body

it keeps changing

I keep looking in the mirror

where did it come from?

hips protuding

collar bones, rib cages

(skin loosely sagging)

and suddenly i'm 16 again

except i was never 16 then

awash in shame and self-doubt and hidden

by the mountain of flesh

and a haze of mental processes

too deep to really call out

didn't even know

i wasn't here

didn't even know

what lay beneath

all that flesh

Eat:

eggs, butter, cheese

meat, vegetables, beans

not too much

just enough

we are just enough

i am just enough

enough to stand

enough to sing

from one valley to another

across the great divide

into your mind

to that piece of soul

that is only here briefly

precious eulogy

beneath your silliness

precious beauty

beneath the doubt

faith striving

in the curve of the hips and the intake of breath

it is not so difficult

afterall