If there were more than one of me
I'd shave my head and grow my beard
I'd be a Doctor of Theology

In great coat of myth, impermeable to ridicule
I'd raise my voice and sing
hymns to the Unknown god

Another me would come undone voluptuously
submit to possessions, deliriously
mate with night in vicious delight

I would be, in a word, unspeakable
indulge an appetite artistically criminal
gloriously indifferent to utter: ruin!

Yet another me would take to stage
part animal, part angel in improbable outfit
strike ecstatic pose and fuse with masses

Or perhaps, at last, renounce words and self
occupy an eye, to better see
in silent awe, peripherally

But, there is only this ambitious pen, and playpen
fencing a mass of miscarriages
trembling from time in unquiet blood

And I, with reluctant fidelity, am guardian
looking over the restless, violent lot
for fear of fratricide.