And have you struggled against the pain

as if stretched on a Procrustean bed,

and did the morning find you here again?

 

Was there nothing, neither sun nor rain,

to restore the lithe, gymnastic spine

and have you struggled against the pain?

 

Lone women done with children, complain

to yourselves about the children’s children. 

The next morning finds you here again.

 

Spurred vertebrae leak lamina, strain

against gravity’s hearty grip. Discs drip. 

And have you struggled against the pain?

 

Go tint your cheeks with delicate paint

after a mandatory hot shower.

And have you struggled against the pain,

and did the morning find you here again?