Susan L. Leary
—
A Human Being Is the Strangest of Inventions
Real bodies claiming other bodies.
What we do to one another is an almost-written text.
A theory in which we cite example after example of bad
behavior to no modification. To testify is to follow a more deadening
procedure, to put forth two principles. The first: there is no way out of a hole
without the hand of another. The second: nature is the only aspect
of personhood we can’t define by what it’s not. Am I losing
the brother-ness of my brother? Am I losing the mouthiness of my mouth
to an amphitheater of cut-and-paste-able eyes rounding
into the sound of an O? I put my feet in water & what tinges
is without a trace of lavender. The loose architecture
of a hand. A bee, the size of your thumb.
We Will Find out Very Shortly
That the body does the work we never asked it to do
& because the body is not the same as the spirit, we inherit
functioning. We inherit a body promptly on course. & what is
on course when mystery is a fancy way of saying we’re inexperienced
in life? Boil it down to the essence & a hammer homes a nail
inside a rectangle of wood, which means we are trained in the art
of alliance: inside the self, no room or wound at the inn. Not
this again. Not the man who says I am doing my job to justify
his own wrongdoing. There isn’t a single occupation that doesn’t cause
pain. Not even of the body. Not eating. Not shitting. Not washing
the torso of resin. Why, asks my brother, do we have eyelashes,
toenails? To evade illness, snot encases bacteria & mucus both drowns
& clears the lung. The point is different from the purpose.
Against a kneecap of sky, that particular shade of red that fevers
the cheek. The hypervigilance of nerves—& yet, the brief reprieve.
The idea that we’re required to sleep somehow makes life more bearable.
Until those silver artifacts from the body emerge smarter than the eye.
& we kill the I. The I breaks. You break. We cannot break from anything.
Susan L. Leary is the author of five poetry collections, including More Flowers (Trio House Press, 2026); Dressing the Bear (Trio House Press, 2024), selected by Kimberly Blaeser to win the Louise Bogan Award; and the chapbook, A Buffet Table Fit for Queens(Small Harbor Publishing, 2023), winner of the Washburn Prize. Her poetry and nonfiction have appeared or are forthcoming in such places as Indiana Review, Diode Poetry Journal, Cream City Review, Smartish Pace, Tahoma Literary Review, Harpur Palate, and Verse Daily. She holds an MFA from the University of Miami and lives in Indianapolis, IN.
© Bear Review 2025
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Site Design + Build
October Associates
