Oopsy-Doopsy

Whatever wields the arts

of repositioning your parts
and your approaches

finds the strangest ways
of taking over – making over
every last vicissitude

of what you’d once imagined
was shrewd management
of your resources.

Fall in love, believe a creed –
shoot your seed
and pee against a tree –

plot courses for a certainty –
erupt from ambiguity
at last to see at least

what’s true for you –
well, soon, some unforeseen
developments construe

a different view,  collude
in the construction
of the upside-down

and obsolete.
Oopsy-doopsy.
Hands are feet.






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