The machinery of the body

What can be said for the machinery of the body?
The machinery of the body groans or creeks or
screams sometimes early in the morning
The machinery of the body keeps its own time
When I was a young man I am a young
man still I would ignore the lights blinking
at the edge of my consciousness
I was Icarus as I expect are we all
of me was singularly focused we had
one will all of us this body but now
I am becoming older though I am still
a young man the body our constituent parts
we are in disagreement increasingly we
have different ideas as to the best course
of action given increasingly limited resources
time is running out it seems though of course
the machinery of the body keeps its own time
Now that I am older than I was though I
am still a young man I am still spry though
at times it is harder it takes time to
move in the ways of my desire standing for
example it takes some time to stand as though
I were taller or the pendulum of my legs my
hands my spine were lengthened though of
course they are not lengthened if anything they
are shorter than they were though they are
not that either for I am still a young man
but the bones are beginning to strain under
the weight the heft of the years bearing them
down and the joints are beginning to pop and
to sing out in something maybe resembling joy
though through gritted teeth and the spaces
of my body are being filled with sand now as
the machinery of the body groans or creeks or
screams sometimes early in the morning
I am not alone in this I know there is no
thing older than the growing older of bodies
nothing older than death eventually even life
is younger than death I know this to be true
but still it is my first time getting older
though of course as you know I am still a young man
it is my first time with all of this as yes
it is everyone’s at some point their first
time and so I mention these things not to teach
anyone about how to grow old but for no other reason
than for my own benefit maybe to speak it
for myself to drive it out like a demon
to send the apprehension of age from myself
like a lone traveller on the road to eternity
for it never to come back and for I to grow finally
old in dignity and in grace but the question
remains gnawing at my leg like some insect
What can be said for the machinery of the body?