Instructions for Passage

There, that one: and fingers point 
at this body. It doesn't know 
itself except for how it occupies 
space and is anxious about time. 
How is it responsible for the lamp 
that didn't shine in the room,
for the clothes shredded under 
the weight of neglect or bread 
that the crow stole from the sill? 
A roach climbs out of the drain 
and flees at the strike of a match. 
This body traces the grooves 
of its ruefulness and lo 
and behold, canals spring up 
overnight, littered with flat-
bottomed craft and boatmen 
calling out their one-way 
fares. Don't feed the monkeys.
Don't look over your shoulder.
The sun that rose in the east
will set in the west.