A poem I wrote the other day...

I got my legs
from walking miles
in either direction,
I got my arms
from the great god above
my voice is from my mother
feet from my father
and my great-grandmother's
shoulders beneath my head.
My knees deep
in wine barrels, stomping
my hands from fire and wind
my mouth is recovered
from many others lip-lock.
hair is growing
thick and fine upon my head
my stomach filled with
disgruntled butterflies
heart swells with warmth
and burns when crossed
my elbows
only know my bruises
and bumps in the night.
my mind is a toss-up
of songs and stories
sadness burns holes
in the happy blinds-
eyes as windows
into a room as lost to me
as the hotel room
across the Texas interstate.