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I don’t do things by halves

 

I don’t do things by halves

 

I don’t do things by halves

Hand peel the orange

Till it’s all quickly gone

Don’t upset an autistic boy’s mother

Even by accident

& her crocodile tears

She thinks “great

Now I can really carry on

& I’ll be in the right”

Ah melodrama

The boy will take it to the grave

Though the mother is now laughing about it

& then the bystanders get involved

My great sin

Asking her “so how are things?”

To which she rejoindered

“You can’t ask me that!”

& it’s like Pope’s World War III

People now are very sensitive for themselves

& very insensitive to others

Everybody’s been categorized

Even though the human sciences

Are based on a leap of faith

Unprovable hearsay

Autism was first diagnosed in 1943

My God how did we cope in the 2 million years beforehand!

Medicine & Science feeds on itself

Lurching from one guesstimate to the next

When the guesstimate is guesstimated to be false


High intelligence & learning is now ‘neurodiverse’

Question: don’t we each have different brains?

Ah buzzwords

What will be next?

One thing: the mind is out & the brain is in

In this soulless age

An intolerant age

Doesn’t matter if a law’s been broken

The court of public opinion is enough

 

 

Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.

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