Metrophysics

For all I know, my soul
is a body of water and
will not live if it cannot
move in every direction
except the one I selected.

For all I know, my soul
is an atmosphere for some
assortment of monsters
who cannot avoid notice
but always escape capture:
The Dimwit on my block,
who pretends to have his
dog under control, or The
Bonehead in my museum
who chuckles at his kid’s
abysmal behavior, or The
Harlot who is setting up
My Protégé for the tumble
of his life, but still dares
to come to me for advice.

For all I know, my soul
is only mine the way my
town, my estate and My
Gods of War and Love are
mine, and less so each day.

For all I know, my soul
will be no cleaner when
I get it back than it was
once I decided to have
it cleaned by The Experts:
The Guy from My Class who
actually Managed to Get
Ordained, or My Sister’s
Friend who wants to quit
the rackets and hang out
her shingle in a virtuous
place, or the Charlatan who
rushes to assure Every
Orphan of My Acquaintance
that all is well in Hades.



For all I know, my soul
is a subtle combination of
dog whistles, membranes,
and phantom pains – which,
obviously, I wouldn’t realize.

For all I know, my soul
is not a bald tire studded with
other people’s discarded
earrings, but the stained glass
window of a Secret Society:
The Gentleman from the
Placement Office, who gave
me this location, My Old
Friend from My Salad Days,
Who sent me to the office
in the first place, or the
Mysterious Redhead, who
keeps showing up just
as I’m about to lose my
temper, my place and
My Soul……………..