23 Ways of Looking at Two Doors

    i
I walked in one,
and out the other.

    xviii
I walked out the other,
and in the one.

    xxi
Knock, knock.
Who’s there?
It’s a riddle.
I know it’s a riddle, what’s the answer?
No, you’re supposed to say—
I don’t get it.
Never mind.

    xix
I walked into both,
and was torn.

    xxiii
I walked out of both,
and came together in the middle.

    vi
Knock, knock.
Who’s there?
Nobody.
Nobody who?
. . . .

    xx
Eenie,
meenie,
minie,
moe.
I pick the very best one,
but they are the same.

    xxii
I stood between,
indecisive,
and died.

    x
I asked the guards
three questions,
and waited,
in the space between breaths,
to be lied to.

    xi
For one was saved,
and one was damned.

    xii
Knock, knock.
Who’s there?

    xiii
One if by land,
and two if by sea,
and both if by whisky,
and neither for me.

    ii
Should I change my mind?
The Hall has two doors,
and one is right,
and one is left,
and one is wrong,
and one is a new car.

    xvii
There is a steam locomotive
running in one door and out the other,
or maybe the other way around,
and it isn’t even the one I was waiting for.

    xiv
Knock, knock.

    iii
When God closes a door,
he closes it on your foot.

    iv
The exit door leads in,
which is good because
the entrance door doesn’t
lead anywhere at all.

    v
I walked back and forth,
like a flying bird that does not walk back and forth,
and flew until the trains collided.

    vii
Knock, knock.
Who’s there?
Another stanza.
Shit.

    viii
Ah, mon amour,
Je t’adore, je t’adore!
So I did.

    xv
My door is always open,
which is why my office
is filled with snow
and papers
the color of snow
and blood.

    xvi
I walked,
and I walked,
and I walked,
and filled my feet with ideas,
and my head with blisters.

    ix
Knock, knock.
Who’s there?
The end.

Daniel Galef

If you have any comments on this poem, Daniel Galef would be pleased to hear from you.