A Multitude of Michaels
Inhabited by check and counterfoil,
my head is full of squatters – what a mob!
One Michael’s eager for his daily toil:
another Michael can’t abide his job.
There’s one of me who’s frugal, prudent, wise,
and one you wouldn’t trust to walk the dog:
one version tries it on with petty lies,
while one’s as stable as a fallen log.
One talks like Robin Williams on a high,
but one’s as muted as a manatee:
so how can I my inner self descry?
Establish which, of all of them, is me?
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