I want to be your creepy uncle, you know, that one

Persephone, mistress
of switched sticks,
crossed existence,
protect these feet

the devil's doubles,
the twos, of this
half-life,
this twilight.

feels forward,
finds behind
the track, yet
cannot stand

I offer. Imagination
is the wonder
of the real, and I am
sore afflicted with

Neither one nor two
but a mixture
walks here
in me-

The must I forever
walk on, walk on-
as I have and
as I walk on.

What I understand
of this life,
what was right
in it, what was wrong,

I have forgotten
in these days
of physical change.
I see the ways

of knowing, of
securing, life grow
ridiculous. A weakness,
a tormenting, relieveing weakness

comes to me. My hand
I see at arm's end-
five fingers, fist-
is not mine?

still or be here
elemental, be more
or less a man,
a woman.