And Vow to Never Vow Again

If you vowed that you wouldn’t
But then you did, the question
Isn’t why you broke your vow

But why you ever made one.
Seriously. What’s a vow
But a linguistic construct,

An effort to countermand
Whatever the body wants
Or would do, uninstructed?

What’s a vow, whether public
Or silent, but a social
Contract made of verbiage

Preexisting the vower,
An airy habitation
For a bunch of ancient terms,

However vehemently
Sworn by the embodied soul
Who articulates those words?

The thing about King Canute
Was that he meant to display
Only inability

To control nature, the tides,
When he commanded them back.
Maybe that’s why you make vows.