12-30-2008 Ben Franklin didn’t invent those so you could do girl push-ups while reading “The Secret”

Hit your nemeses. Hit your cages. Hit
illusions you can push against to lift
your smallerrelativemass high. Submit
your mind to measure every minor shift

of thought and flesh – each consequence that comes
from challenging the ruler-headed gods.
How can you warp a word to fit a sum
of endless terms? How can you know a nod

that can’t consent? Creations spawned like jars
of lightning from mans quaking thighs may pull
your vision tree to page. But how the stars
or mitochondria see you swells full

of acts for which there are unequal
and unopposite pleas, wheedles and demands.