Hands #2 – Poem


The left one, now, is released and discovers itself

revelling in the total immobilisation of the right hand

it’s not as efficient, it knows that, but….

‘Give me a chance! I’ll be better, I will, I swear!

Just let me practice, give me time,

I am sure that I can be just as much as that pesky right hand

I know that you miss her, but.. damn, let me be

I will show you

something new within me.’

Surprised by all the hand had to say

I cock my head, purse my lips (through a pain in my mouth from too many cigs)

and say; Sure;

I’ve often been curious about what the hell

is in that left hemisphere.

Though I may be a little frightened, because

is any time suitable for such self-exploration?

The right hand grumps and itches at my question.

‘I could offer you self-exploration!’

The muffled voice sounds from within its plastic seal

I barely hear it

so it speaks within a momentous itching.

‘The placement within a cast has obviously had

little effect in silencing the pest!’

The left hand, ecstatic, makes its rivalries clear.


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