By | 2 February 2001

When you come out bared
The business has turned serious;
We anoint our work with your grease.
You are the radar as we move through the crowd
With a gentle jog of the morphology.
You act as the fulcrum while we ponder at table,
Holding the weighty thought on its neck.
You are the agile lever as we drink and dine,
From childhood, aerofoils in like a Concorde.
The side of you that’s funny leaves us feeling numb,
Tetchy to be in another body than this.
With the most visually applicable,
The most literally ideal of names,
You are the graceful crescent of embrace,
the hinge for a job of movements,
The brisk wing of our day.

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