This skeleton made of wooden blocks,

vertex upon vertex; skeleton rocked

back and forth like a manual gearbox,

each step jerking; grinding into the wrong gear.

False articulation.

Slipped and slipping

in between the sweet spots,

in the not right spots

highlighted like an oxcart’s

imprint upon muddied roads –

rut, rut, rut, rut, rut, (long hard sigh).

It moves –

wooden blocks in conjunction

hip swing but not connection

slide, slick faced, no coordination.

(Replace missing part with chicken bone.)

It falls

down and scatters;

discordant skeletal matching –

more assembly required.

All throughout the daily ordeal,

we meet detours, blocking,

road closings,

run into frame-less glass

look back; mime the expression: De-railed.

Others walk through –

nothing to it; undeterred and unknowing –

walk upon hip joints -shock absorbent

cartilage coated ball and socket; collagen graduate.

Streets always seem to them

easy to navigate; boring, really.

I speak of the obstacles

in this underworld,

the obstacles in this


the invisible obstacles in the mind.