Throat:

 I want to describe the Body as a Book 
A Book as a Body.
And this Body and this Book
  Will be the first Volume  Of Thirteen Volumes.

 Ribcage:

The first bulk of the book is in the torso,
 Seat of the lungs 
 That fan the wind that dries the ink.
 Seat of the heart 
 That pumps the ink 
 That is always red           Before it is black.          

The heart and two lungs are held upright,
Close, but not touching neighbours,
Sheltered by the covers of the ribcage,
Watermarked with dark twin punch-hole paper titles.
The breath of inspiration runs amongst them
Drawn down from the air by their shared influence.

Nape to Coccyx

 No function of book or body is singular
If a multiple service can be performed.
 So the inspirational air
Shares the same passageway


With salts, words,
Sentences, Sweeteners,Paragraphs.
They all come tumbling down to flutter 
onto the ruminating page,
To lie in serried rows like rice-stalks
 In afield, or stitches in a tatami,
Patiently awaiting irrigation 
 By water or  by vision
Even if a reader does not appear for a thousand years.

 Belly

The second bulk of the book is in the belly
Factory for the mixing of materials,
A taborato of sorting and threading,
Retaining and Remaindering,
A publishing house in continual flux,
Stamped with the indente chop of the navel, 

Seldom idle, Never still, 
Sharing space with preparations
For thefuture with the irony  of economy.
 Future and Past sharing the same thoroughfare.
Book and body always showing their evolutionary history.

                     Penis and Scrotum           

I am the very necessary Coda
The tail-piece,.
the ever reproducin
Epilogue.
The last dangling paragraph
that is the reason
for the next book's
sprouting.