Today I traced my foot with a pencil,
Took a second
made my toes
feel bold, essential again.
So good,
legs straight as pencils
on 3-holed lines
Everything lame, white, wrinkled
sharpened, precise
and callous free.
I'll leave this note here
for the doctor.
How amazing, this
decay-subtracting stencil —
but alas, I can't forget
the great saphenous
disappointment,
or the catheter
in these sweatpants,
forever.
To the black graphite lines
in this here
blood-sugar logbook,
my sallow, numb calf
pales in comparison.