When
I and my symmetric brother
were
born it could not be said
who
would dominate
or
be preferred though custom
meant
that he would be
the
one to shake
and
with time we learned
that
he would write
open
doors
hold
the bow
play
the major note.
I
had an alien role:
clumsy,
I had no right
to
take the lead
or
cut the steak,
or
make the model boats
or
brush the teeth.
The
best that I could do
was squeeze
the paste
hold
the fork
lift
the case
perhaps
share
a
wash with him together
and
then with face.
I
had my place
at
the piano, true,
to add
the bass
to
his excursive treble
to help
with typing
but
not with pleasuring
either
the body of my owner
or
that of another –
well,
sometimes perhaps
but
with a lot of trouble …
But
when the right was damaged
my lack
of education
was
reformed.
Suddenly
I was taught
to
shave,
to
guide the penis as it peed,
cut
as well as hold the steak
scribble
crumpled messages
with
pens,
compute.
Once
over, I took back
my
old dysgraphic role
a
slave to all that’s right.
No
voice,
today
I have no choice
but to
live on handouts
and
the occasional leftover.
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