Barbara Perez

THE REGIME

So much for protest, for palace coup.
The body's limbs on orders
from high to flail and flounder
away from any meaningful politic.

Who is it then that seeks to overthrow
this form, this failing system of governance,
the mind each day forced to remake itself
a sovereign nation and fledgling regime,
when the body's rebellion, too,
is likewise overthrown?

Unrest is proof of unity somewhere,
perhaps a sign of some tender idealist,
consciousness, raising its flag–homespun
and tattered–as if it were simply a matter
of signaling: here the true democracy,
here the truly awakened country:

a part of me, whole–that this were so
is seed enough for revolution.

* * *

CONFUSING ELEGANCE FOR GRACE

Watch closely: the unwelcome jolt of an arm
confused for the wrist leaping happily up

to wave goodbye, the unwanted tremor of hand
mistook for a nervous, thoughtful caress

–control facilitates meaning. Grand mal
or ballroom waltz, it's merely a trick of the mind

that the actions are mine and not intention
bound by sovereign chemical process,

by medical marvel. On the kitchen table,
a scribbled prescription for free will

quantified by milligram. The chalky-sweet pills,
each morning, ensure the twitches and tics

of my body instead form calculated movements
–deliberate action forgoing all other outcomes.

Though, now and then, I like to skip a few pills
on purpose, just to remind myself who's in charge.

Barbara Perez earned her MFA at the University of Massachusetts, Boston. Her work has been published in several journals, including Poetry, Ploughshares, American Letters & Commentary, and The Massachusetts Review. She teaches at Northwest Vista in San Antonio, Texas. She is currently at work on a poetry collection documenting her experience with epilepsy as it relates to various themes in Western philosophy.