Do they make up something whole

or without any bit, are anything lesser?

 

Is there such a thing as me

-or even I-

apart from the conglomerate parts?

And would its identity and integrity

be dependant on every one?

 

I lost a toe, replaced a knee,

my uterus turned to ash and smoke;

even slices from my flesh or mind….

did I truly?

If so, at what point do I stop being me?

If not, then am I as much in the soil itself,

part of the wilding ethers, the lovely rain

as in this remaining body-lump?

 

Every minute, like a snake

we shed and change cells continuously.

Each life reduced to the renewal date

of every cog and component part!

Some, weeks, some years.

What a franchise

for this aggregate vehicle,

 replacing, recycling each part as needs, 

without a reminder or any quibbles

if you please.

The organ date for this .. is that:

brand newly-born,

like a tv or kettle under guarantee.

 

But not like magic or crocodiles’ teeth

endlessly re-growing.

For there is an overall Scrap Date,

a Limited Contractual deal.

Mean-the-while, all the  microorganisms,

busy by the billions

ceaselessly regenerate themselves

without so much as a squeak for acclaim

with a mandate, blueprint and purpose

of other-worldly constancy.

At least, some of God's creatures

seem selfless and able to respect rules.

 

While also, having opinions or attitude;

they can rebel, go awol, on strike,

get stuck. Stop spinning. Give up.