They say that losing ego to gain a self
is truly loving the whole self, but who
are "they"? and how do they know when it’s done?
Lose one earring, and you have one useless
one left. But lose an ear, and double the sound
load for the remaining ear to hear.
Lose jigsaw puzzle pieces and the whole
can never more be seen. And details lost
ruin the rest for future players’ games.
But "they," I’m sure, have done the deed—
they’ve placed their pieces in biodegrade-
able bags and dropped them from car windows
(when they’re not looking, so can’t be accused
of throwing them away, or throwing self
around or cutting off noses in spite).
I have not found an ego yet, not one
they lost, not even mine—which makes me think
I lost it without trying long ago?
I wonder if I’d recognize the part
or whole if it was staring right at me?But I won’t waste any more time on it.
This is April's poem 24, a day late.
*Note: All April poem-a-day poems are rough drafts awaiting revision.
Copyright © 2016 Susan L. Chast