Suck

Shaking the cobwebs loose again.

If breathing is so "necessary,"

and "natural,"

for human bodies, then

why is mine so very,

woefully,

crustily,

sluggishly

terrible at it?

Unbearable addicts,

these gluttonous lungs

hung loosely among

my ribs.

The airway jibs

and stutters with every

desperate suck,

unable to meet its massive

cardiovascular demand.

Spectacular commands

in the vernacular of hands,

feet, muscle, bone

and brain

dictate the every

micro-action,

but a slight distraction

from the flow of air

is often enough to derail

the entire operation.

My tired obligation

to respirate,

to circulate,

suddenly shifts from automatic,

effortless instinct

to manual,

arduous task.

Extremities bask

in the warmth

of freshly transmitted blood,

but the next breath

is a dud,

a blank, a misfire.

What inner fire

could be fed with such

inadequate, lazy

whiffs?

Inconsistent, stiff,

and incomplete.

Repeat!

Deep, full and patient.

It is an ancient practice,

I will treat it so.

A heated flow

of life will follow suit.