In my very own sense,
I am outside society,
against consensus.
In my next and borrowed sense
I wonder how
I can seem nearly whole
instead of in pieces and pieces.
How did I come through all that training
with anything that held together?
They said it couldn’t be done without them
or at least
their instruction, directions and recipes.
The slit aligns with other slit,
Stonehenge against night sky.
Keys and locks,
Locks and keys.
You be the lock,
I’ll be the key.
I’ll open you.
then open me.
Outside society,
(Neither key fits the lock to that.)
I am also something else
and something else is inside me.
286®Copyright 1972 Jack Scott. All rights reserved.
From Poemystic.com