postmodern paradox

sometimes the centre breaks, unravels
and then all things resist harmony
tending rather toward confusion, disunity and strife
and in vain, with my duct tape, a worn-out adhesive
I try and I try to put the centre back together
somehow.

the part I fix seems only a minor detail in all of the rubble.
It is always in vanity, all of it.
Now, when the centre breaks, I just let it.
I watch from afar, like a bemused spectator
who smiles with the better answer,
although it is nowhere to be found.

letting the centre break shifts my perspective;
a new centre, that is not the same, has not yet been broken.
it waits.

my role has changed from putting the pieces together
to breaking them all apart.

It is simply simpler to deconstruct.

however, I do miss the consistency, steadfastness
and arrogance of the centre.
herein lies the postmodern paradox:
to create or deconstruct? appollonia, dionysus?

how is it we choose one yet remember to resist the view
that they are all the same?