Genetic Gift
When my lower back goes out of whack
there’s slippage in my sacroiliac.
One leg drops lower than the other,
and when I tilt my torso forward so
as to brush my teeth, I shriek
as muscles, bones and nerves converge
to protest the shifting, lifting, and twisting
of too much stuff the day before when
chores were done, and when, that night,
I watched TV with legs frog-like
in my LazyBoy recliner that drops
way back for cat-naps under the light.
I pop a pill and feel relief from this
awful aggravation but know it will not cure
a subluxation until I get adjusted by
my trusted chiropractor whose with his activator
thumps my crooked spine back into line
making me feel fine until it fails the next time.
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