One
half of me so seldom seems to want to see the other half
whose
only interest evidently is to see its
other half, I wonder
at
the likely losses in the benefits and costs of their dichotomy.
Is
one intended to correct the other? Is the other’s mission
to
ignore the other’s admonitions and proceed as if no other
half
were there? Is the outcome of what one supposes is what
I think
of as wholly me in jeopardy? Am I doomed to a psychotic fall
or
psychic leprosy? Will all go dark? Should I care? Or did I simply
make
their duet up because duality is such a lure and seems
so
sure a model for a vehicle for generating rules about no matter
what
– the only car to drive and park? Is my divided brain a losing
cause?
Is that good or bad? Have I been had by some bored
propagating
force who long ago gave up the farce of thinking
there
were any laws that could account for my egregious lapses
and
now plays his version of a game of darts with my synapses?
Two
humanoidal heads and faces rise beneath my pencils,
colored
markers and eraser with not so much as a by-your-leave.
Uninvoked
and uninvited, one’s not looking at the other while
the
other looks at him. Joined together by a flaccid bit of spiral
left
from someone’s skeevy mucus glycoproteins DNA they seem
un-bothered by their twosome. I find them not a
little gruesome.
.
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