The body politic

yell when the ear is near, dear,
but the mouth has got no teeth;
the tongue at its moor of sinew
tugs at the jaw beneath.

nor if it is public or private,
an organ can't compete
when the pulse-rate drops to this level--
even the feet must eat.

so head for the heart for a start, dear,
(nudge the bad blood aside)
a true thrust is a trust, love,
a wrong is a right denied.

a shot in the dark will never go wide
though our hands be as cold as death:
the brain must come to a standstill
if the mind is to catch its breath.