And there was complacency in heaven
for the space of half an hour,
and God said, Let every saint lose his back.
Let their wings and epaulettes shrivel,
and for immortal flesh give them flesh of man,
and for the wind of heaven a winter on earth.
The saints roared like the devil.
O my God, cried Peter, what have you done?
And God said,
Consider the back,
the curse of backache
the humpback’s prayer.
Consider how thin a shell man wears.
The locust and crab are stronger than he.
Consider the back, how a rod breaks it.
Now consider the front, adorned with eyes,
cheeks, lips, breasts, all
the gorgeous weaponry of love.
Then consider the back, good for nothing
but to fetch and carry, crouch and bear
and finally to lie down on the earth.
O, my angels, my exalted ones,
consider the back,
consider how the other half lives.