Whose Ark?

Whose Ark? (23rd February, 2009, 8.15pm)

Biblical, isn’t it? The pairing up,
the cutting off of humans into
twos. Whose whole am I meant
for, whose soul am I half of, and
what if nobody is looking for me?

Roll up, roll up to see the failure
at the zoo, as the animals go two
by two, and multiply, and live side
by side, die in each other’s shadow;
who am I supposed to hide behind?

Ridiculous, the pigeon holes in which
we’re supposed to fit? What if I want
to be part of another number, or
worse, singular? Who will chastise?
Whose Ark am I subscribed to join?

Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, off to work I go;
I spend my life on building a career,
and who will love me if the price of
time turns out too dear? A quandary;
what if ‘it’ was never meant to be?

Extraneous, the white, mounted knight
to sweep me off my feet; I am the rider,
and I will not get carried away with this;
I live alone and claim that sanctuary;
whose box am I too large to fit inside?

Take two, take two. What if one plus one
equals no fun and turns out not enough?
My will be done, the iron hand of fate tight
inside my velvet glove, what is it to love?
Is there anyone left to be questioned?

Jennifer Pickup