My right shoe has gone on leave

I'm neither four-footed, nor two

 

I read Nietzsche in a state of primordial trinity

At night he enters my sleep and says: 

Finally, I get to rub out your moustache!

 

The phone has gone straight to voicemail for days

Yet again, the bloody landlord!

 

I scratch my foot with a knitting needle

 

Nothing good ever came from the right

The left is left

I am weary, so weary,

tired of this tripartate opposition:

right-handedness, left-mindedness, nihilism