The Missing Neuropsychologist

by K.C. Collins

When they were seven
the twins put a quart of ice cream into the dishwasher
and dirty dishes into the freezer;
a flower bouquet into the clothes hamper
and muddy smocks on the kitchen table.
The grown-ups said they were
a little slow.

When they were seventy
the twins peed in their beds
and slept in their bathrooms;
tossed greeting cards from family into wastebaskets
while taping the envelopes to their mirrors.
The doctors said they had

I suppose
that during the sixty-three years in between
when they planted flowers in mailboxes
and deposited letters in watering cans,
left their shoes in bathtubs
and took baths on the front porch,
during that time
I suppose
they were just
bat-crap crazy.

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