All the things that can go wrong with a body
could fill a book. Lots of books. A whole medical library.
But the thing is, there’s no point in naming them here--
names that are sometimes long and sometimes short, 
sometimes Greek and sometimes Latin, and sometimes 
the person who first noticed, studied, and isolated a thing
that went wrong with a body ends up giving his name 
to that thing. And thenceforth the people whose bodies 
have that thing are given that name for the thing they have.
Which is a nameless thing, really. Nameless as a thousand 
dialects of pain. Nevertheless, people are sometimes
made to feel better when given a name for the thing
they have. At least it’s a thing, they think. It wasn’t just 
in their heads. But everything is a thing before it is given
a name. Even the body you have, or, more accurately, are,
was a body before it was named. And it goes back to being one.
And that’s all that’s ever wrong with a body. That’s the thing.

‍

Paul Hostovsky makes his living in Boston as a sign language interpreter. His poems and essays appear widely online and in print. His newest book of poems is Perfect Disappearances (2025). Website: paulhostovsky.com