After all I've only got one hand
and how much can you do with it?
The other hand's almost useless
not much help
and I often forget
that there's still another hand
This is the one with which I fetch
water for your kitchen
write a thank-you note
strap-hang on a bus
I swing it vigorously as I walk
so it stays active defiant
That's when the other hand
crouches like a hare in a bush
or lies down in my childhood
somewhere between a ball and a rocking horse
In my youth it would clasp
the hand of a girl
but this swinging hand can't even
touch the other hand
It keeps on knocking
at the gates of cities offices houses
It's with this I do everything
It never gets tired never gives up
only when it's too much
the other hand protests
aching and trembling.