It's hard
to rid yourself of guilt
with the material world
incorporating your body
with its unruly hull
of meat and hormones,
so like a cog stomping
in choppy waters
along a stormy coast,
white breakers
in the dark of the autumn sea
signaling their imminence,
everything looming

A material body
in a material world
tumbles, clashes,
elbows its way,
guilt smoking
like oil
from a faulty automobile
out on the Jersey Turnpike