How little we know,
How air travels through windpipes,
The music, the lungs make.
The pneuma, the mandatory essence
Of living, the open doors
Nostrils are, and the long journey
That a breath makes, letting out carbon dioxide
And giving the arsenals of cells,
A bout of oxygen.
Almost like Christopher Columbus,
And the new world, how
They took the new world wonders
For the venereal diseases,
How lungs too exchange the good
With the bad and the ugly.
We are all Columbian exchanges,
Infusion and expulsion,
A tapestry of little airbags that bloat
And shrink, armed with a little gas,
Becoming kinetic wonders.
A system that crashes on its own,
And has no reboot button.
How we too will be laid to rest,
When we lose the elasticity of our lungs.
Those pop-corn like wonders,
Just below your ribcage, lighter
Than a mountain of candy floss. A system
That can do so many wonderful
Things; sing, dance and play,
And sometimes all together,
Multitasking, as in love.