The Odd Morphology of Regret
Lint collector, abdominal eye, perpetual
seat of kindergarten curiosity—
insie or outsie?—
you reign: universally mammalian, very
center of our being, mute remnant
of Mom long after Mom's
become remnant, invaginated marker
of life's arc. (Insie and outsie
inexorably recede.)
But please, tell us, Señor Umbilicus,
Miss B. Button, why you lack
those frissons of feeling
that got us here, you who should be
the ultimate pleasure zone—
shapely, accessible,
clitoral, to whom reams of paeans
would certainly be penned—
why you remain so
utterly unerogenous, ghost port
where all the great vessels
once docked.
The Threepenny Review, Spring 2001
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