A Medley of Body Parts

The legs take their cue and derive their momentum from eyes half transfixed on the body's ultimate destination; otherwise they would surely prefer to sashay to disinterested shrills from a non chalant wind. Arms never believed in old myths surrounding an upright posture, else they would not have found artistry in an ape instead. I recount nauseatingly familiar sights and patterns - green line, red circle, tallish wannabe chandeliers, murky waters on both sides, doors that lust after rust and dust. Can any of these lift as much as a finger, not to mention the weight of a drooping head bubbling with a pungent fermented liquid some call 'memory'? Still the ears catch wind of forgotten, disembodied melodies, and lament the want of a mouth to hum along. Sound the trumpet, confer the trophy of rhetoric, commence the party where drudgery and irony become my dearest guests! Hearts may crumble at their behest; what more of a fling with destiny can the Greatest Director suggest?