Motion is medicine, you tell me by Alan Walowitz

Motion is medicine, you tell me

and other times you say, Medicine is motion,
and when I fail to apply the commutative property
and switch it back around,
you tell me I’m being difficult
which I’m known to be
when I don’t really give a shit,
and forget the Prime Directive:
In marriage, it’s best to go along to get along.

It also shows that day to day, Yeats was wrong:
things don’t fall apart;
they just get confused and eventually misshapen
till you can’t figure which end is up,
or what’s the subject of the sentence,
or even which of the seven classic disciplines we ought to apply
that would bring meaning to a challenging concept.
This could explain Brexit, or the National Front in France
Liberte, Egalite, Fraternite, my ass–
or Pres. Trump’s one nation under God–Trust me, he says:
we’ll have the very best One;
or the existence of the God particle
which sounds so promising
that something—anything—might be holding us together.

I’ve learned reading Physics for Dummies
that a body in motion tends to stay in motion,
though I’ve noticed it’s plenty easy
these days to tumble into an easy chair and fall fast asleep
with hardly a moment’s notice, even with all the bad news
on loud and in a continuous loop.
It was said Dali, himself, preferred to nap with a tin on his head.
When it would fall and crash like cymbals on the hardwood floor
he would wake to the alarm, now rested,
wax his moustache again, and get back to work.
I guess, given current conditions,
we’d be wise to forego our next nap,
and get our asses back in gear.

by Alan Walowitz, first published in Verse-Virtual.

Editor’s Note: This rambling poem circles around the inevitable pain of living—nothing is ever what you think it is, and once you figure it out, it changes. There’s nothing to do except keep going.


7 responses to “Motion is medicine, you tell me by Alan Walowitz”

  1. Trina Sultan Avatar
    Trina Sultan

    Thanks for the poem. I think of the eternity loop and how the poem keeps folding back on itself. Especially like the Trump trust God line looping into my mind as “in God we trust” on all our money.

    Keep writing

    1. Donna. Yagoda Avatar
      Donna. Yagoda

      I am reading this poem on the train on my way home from work. I cannot even begin to tell you how much I needed this poem at this very moment.

      1. Alan Avatar

        Thanks, Donna. Poems can’t change much, but sometimes they can help for a minute.

    2. Alan W Avatar
      Alan W

      Thanks, Trina. Hope he’s not for eternity! Having enough trouble getting through the week.

  2. Peter Avatar

    I enjoyed sitting down and taking a journey with this rambling, meandering, yet evocative poem. It seems to be a bit of a departure from your other poetic gems, but I’m not exactly sure why I say that.

    1. ajwal328 Avatar

      Peter, thanks for your comment. I’d like to think that, despite the ramble, it kind of winds up exactly where it should. Especially in this time we’ve entered of such great uncertainty.

      1. Peter Avatar

        I think we might be marching, not rambling, back to the 1960s. I foresee a bit of social unrest on the horizon. I’m going to my friend’s book signing tomorrow at the NYC Library on 42 Street. His book, “Undisclosed Files of the Police–Cases From the Archives of the NYPD”. The 1960s seems to be a blueprint for today’s unrest.

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