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The Book of Life
Laura Kasischke
Pale and naked without their bodies, the souls
examine the book
in which they hope to find
their names inscribed（题写，雕刻）.
Made of soap. Now. Made
of smoke. Now
made of dew
and hairlessness. And how
The body. Its
silly limbs transporting, through the world, our
windblownness. Our
cloud wherever it went.
easily chipped.
The nose, often
runny, sometimes broken.
did we bear it as it bore us, all
stuttering and limping, clomping, hungry,
shaggy（蓬松的）, horny, and diseased. All
around a soul:
A simple soul!
Exhausting coat!
Skipping along like hope.
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