This work is about a time I had a broken hand, and how the brokenness transferred from one hand to the other. It is also inspired by the works of Shooby Taylor, which, on the Internet, may be found if you google 'index of pheezy shooby' (not as a phrase).
For some reason I had broken my hand,
you know, how some people sometimes just go ahead
breaking their hand?
It was not capable anymore,
to reach anything.
It lived, as a person (if a hand had personality)
for some time in new york, ny 10010.
then magically, there was a fix.
"Wait," I said, very very carefully,
"I thought it was my right hand that was broken."
So why was the right now performing better than daddy's daddy?
The answer could only beg in my face. "What about the left? With horns?"
I had to laugh. Since my ears were enveloping my own brain.
"Now we will finally be able to simultaneously blow and speak."
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