Oleander

Twelve was the wrong age
to learn that imaginary numbers
co-exist with doorknob murder
and various atrocities in the
family crama. 

I saw, in language and language,
the historical fact:
we is a subset
of me and the inset.

Which way should the film have
gone?

I don't think there was a 
walk to remember
in the cinema
that pressed another aphor
into ismic action.