NPM 13

Ode to Fingers

The tips should be blue,
as neon cold as they are -
opalescent, long tender hooks.

Meant to wind and coil with
utmost efficiency. Stun bass
lines into submission, amaze
the rest of you.

Still, you are often caught in
awkwardness, which I like.

Take this morning,
you were seen sporting
a blue bandage, reporting that
an errant machine
jumped up and bit you.

Machines, I say,
are not meant to be pets,
though content to follow
you home, bend to your command.

So anyone should bend to those
sentinel digits, those
commandeering digits, those unfailing
phalanges.

When interlinked, we lose
sight of the individual fingers,
have only a crushed-together,
fluttering mass, each flexing
mistakenly for its neighbor.

Biblically, this is A-OK, as we should
always do for our neighbor. (Do you.)

Do yes, but do not turn back.
That is, no one likes a looky-loo.
And I would hazard a guess
that no one likes me, except maybe you.