Because I am left-handed,
right-brained, near-sighted,
I read "O" magazine back to front,
stir my sauces widdershins,
Can't parallel park.
Venus is my planet,
Earth's counterintuitive sister.
Now morning star, now evening,
then vanishing from view.
Her vast volcanic plains,
ultra-violet gases, vagrant sun moving west to east
are my natural home.
I yearn for her diurnal turnings,
days longer than a year,
her peculiar orbit, vining through space,
tracing a perfect pentagram.
Because I am left-handed,
high-minded, fuzzy-headed,
I hold visions of worlds without wars,
arrange my daisies in T'ang dynasty vases ,
pen postcards from Venus.
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