Poem of the Day

The Body's Machinery

By Author Unknown

Marco! One minute you seemed perfectly healthy,
the next you were sprawled on the floor by the drinking fountain
like a sack of potatoes.

(How reliable our machinery is usually--
just think if your car ran 60 years nonstop!....)

But, Marco, seeing you there on the floor,
I knew we live at the mercy
of neurons and corspuscles
(our own little wires and pistons)
and when they stop, we stop.