I wants.

A poem written by my friend Susan P:

I wants.

I pushes me: this causes a personality (in) me.

Me goes along with it, jumps onto it, actually sweats it, writes lists,
worries it along, trying to accomplish something.

Meanwhile, with no personality but want, I loses interest;
I sees things moving but always away from I.

I makes events, me reports them, following along like
Spencer Tracy/Katherine Hepburn of the movies.
Me, the tough newspaperman in a raincoat, huddled over a payphone, reporting;
I, running ahead, erratic, in a golden evening dress torn and splashed with mud.