I&i Poem by Percy Dovetonsils

I feel sorry for myself.
so sorry.
because I have a gift
for self expression
but none
for self promotion.

Therefore
I spend my genius
in a closet.
my drawers overflow
with an awesome beauty

which
(at times)
it seems
only I
can appreciate.

I strive to keep
my love affair
with myself
in perspective:
I achieve great
intimacy
with myself.
I dazzle myself
with my own charisma

and then I
walk out
in the
light of day
and see
I am
no more heavenly
than the sun,
the moon,
or a billion
other
celestial bodies.

I tell myself,
In the harsh light of day,
that we can't go on
this way,
I and I,
that it can go
no place good.
that my self-worship
exceeds
reason.

And then,
the next time
I
rendezvous
with myself

we
start up
all over again.

I find myself
infinitely
charming
sensible
unreasonable
repulsive,
comforting,
frightening,
brilliant,
stupid.

I crave my company,
and when,
for a time,
we leave each other

I think constantly
of myself
and yearn
to return
to myself.

Yet
when I see myself
approach
after
a long absence
my presence
is
so beautiful
I become
coy

and pretend
that reunions
such as ours
are merely
everyday
miracles.