NEW

Suppose you woke up with a certificate

Clutched in your hand and signed

By the Archangel Uriel. Uriel is mean,

But not a liar; the certificate

Guarantees that you are a new version

Of someone who used to live here.

You are almost indistinguishable from him

One mole is slightly displaced; your memory

Includes the line he always forgot

In the second stanza of the national anthem.

Otherwise, you remember what he remembered

Have his scars, his reactions. His dreams

May suspect the change but will come by anyway.

What now? It might be simplest to go on

As if you were whom you seemed to be

But walking more lightly, more warily.

It would be bravest to set off to find

Your original and then help or hinder him

As the fancy strikes you. Whatever you do,

Hide the certificate; do not -- on your life! --

Ask Uriel what course he recommends.