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Our bodies' clothes lie side by side
In easy disarray
of next week's jumbled washing,
Unblued whites and unbleached blacks,
They rub, unruffled, kinked in poses,
Roped, deinvoluted, relooped and wattled
Otherwise in piles, heaped and twined
Impossibly, flexed where no arm joints sit;
Bent
with bird-knees, camel hocks,
In fiendish postures, all support cut, all limp
Puppets basketed quietly. Beyond all cause for need,
Used for each its purpose,
stacked and flopped,
In every angle of indignity they commingle
Better than do we.
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