The Me of Me

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I went searching for the me of me!


Who is it?  What is it?  How will I know?

Is it unchangeable—a hyper-essence?

If I found it, would I know God—

In the infinitesimal form of me?


I went to “Impeccable Dry-Cleaning.”

“Can you take out this stain?” I wondered.

“This is the stain of my living.

This is where the Python of the world

Wrapped me in coils of no mercy.”


The friendly, neighborhood dry-cleaner smiled.

“Five dollars,” she said.  “No problem!”


I went to McDonald’s.  The counterman nodded.

“I’m looking for the me of me,” I moaned.

He punched numbers on a register.

A bell rang.



While I was munching, a cop came by.

“Do you have an I.D., sir?” he probed.

“That’s the problem, officer…. I’m lost….”


They took me to “Unclaimed Baggage.”

They told me to “Sit!” ….


Hours passed…. Days passed….

No one came to claim me.


I wondered, wandered, and finally found

My own way out.


Gary Corseri has taught in US public schools and prisons, and at US and Japanese universities. His prose and poems have appeared at Countercurrents, Counterpunch, Village Voice, The New York Times, Redbook Magazine, and hundreds of other periodicals and websites.  His dramas have been produced on Atlanta-PBS and elsewhere, and he has performed his work at the Carter Presidential Library and Museum.  His books include novels, and the poetry volume, “Random Descent” (Anhinga Press).  He can be contacted at [email protected].


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