Shaking fist(s)

there once was a man
so sure that his lefts were
trying to steal his rights

that he sawed that hand
that arm and the leg that
occupied all of that side

I know that you think
that man must have died, bled
all the blood from his heart

but his heart just worked harder
for the side that was left, always
right! always better by half

This poem appears in


Pass it Along

© Brendan Bonsack
September 2017