The Self Is Several

The self is several.  It’s like a zoo

   Where all the me’s I am are caged and fed

And angry—since, no matter what they do,

   I only free the ones who are well-bred

Or well-behaved.  There is a different me

   For everything I feel, pretend to feel,

Or cannot feel—and still there’ll only be

   One of me that the outside world calls real.

I am a traffic jam that just one car

   Will get through—a packed mob behind a door

That only lets one person out—the star

   That all the extras and the crew work for—

      A single tongue behind a wall of teeth

      That speaks over the unvoiced underneath.

 

Copyright 2015 Matthew J Wells