Into my head
apparently from nowhere,
has come the word ‘enantiomorph’.
Well, not really from nowhere.
It has no doubt been living happily
perhaps for decades
under a stone
in a disused area of the brain,
along with a polysyllabic extended family.
I have no idea what it means.
Nor do I wish to know.
It is certain to relate
to a branch of knowledge
which I am incapable of assimilating,
due to the demands it makes
on memory, concentration,
and the ability to understand diagrams.
If, therefore, I enquire further,
I will find myself buying a book
and closing it midway through Chapter 2,
resolving to continue later,
when I will feel stronger,
and the topic will join geology,
classical history, genetics,
Byzantine art, the Spanish verb,
and many other things,
in the long list of matters
which I have failed to master,
and which now fester in a mental dungeon
howling accusations at me
through the bars.
So, enantiomorph,
you’re welcome to stay
as long as you like.
But just keep to your side of the dictionary,
and I’ll keep to mine.
OK?