Left, Right, Center, Under Poem by Richard Bogartz

I am blind
in her left tear.
Deaf in her
right cry.
She had me
at goodbye.

Right

She is bent.Away.
Iam over.
Overlooked.
Overcooked.
Not over her.
I need a complaintron saint.
It isn't right.
I'm out of sight.
Seen I ain't.

Center

I have an old center.
Does the center hold?
Where does the center fold?
Is that what the yenta told?
She meant a cold bold rolled note
In the key of me.

Under

I wonder if
I understand
The plundered mind,
Bereft of thought,
Left to blunder
By the theft.