BY DR. AGONSON
I am at war, and I am losing ground:
Each battle won depletes my storehouses;
At every victory morale drops low.
The darkness knows my night will come, it knows
that I must sleep, and then that I must dream.
A jester has one head, and this upright,
but every nobleman held in my hand
two heads posses—and one will overrule,
the other undermine. So upside-down,
or right-side-up, some part in me is mad.
I am at war with my own head, and wish
to laugh it off, and on some road to dance.
Each victory against myself is loss;
I rout myself in this battle. And in
the end, what cards shall I lay down?