Tuesday, March 24, 2009

A super-rough draft of something that occurred to me while driving

My father and mother always told me
to stand up straight, to follow
the right path, when the going
got tough and the load got heavy
to square my shoulders and carry
whatever was piled upon me.

I am not lazy, father.

I can not square my shoulders.
One is higher than the other,
trapezoidal, shoulder blade to
shoulder blade, invisible line
straight down to one hip bone,
a right angle to the other hip, and back
up to the shoulder. I am not square,
nor even, I do not fit into any box.

I am not evil, mother.

I can not choose one side, one sex,
one lover. I move through life
from one right angled street corner
to another, to the streets that meet
at angles, the ones that wind
like snakes, serpents of wisdom,
the pain of the knowledge that is good
and evil, separation and truth.

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