Abe Isaac’s Ode to Melanie Klein’s Breast

’Twas a year ago, replete with curiosity and stress,
That I arrived to suckle from das Kleine breast.
I chewed and bit, and gnawed and clawed
At her Paranoid Position that others laud.
I attempted to transcend my inclination
To focus so heavily on maternal deprivation
But still I sought with analytic precision
To discredit her thinking on the Depressive Position
As I sinned … and continued to value less and less
Mrs. Klein’s chilly and empty breast.

Chorus:
Worshipper of Logos, Slave of Eidos
Why find ye no rest at Mrs. Klein’s Breast?

Truth be said and truth be told
Your theories belong to the brave and bold.
Those, as I, who eschew divine inspiration
Find no joy in Splitting lactation
Between Bad and Good Mammalian glands
Alas! We see with eyes and not with hands
That can feel their way from breast to breast
Are you kidding? Perhaps, you jest?
From Projecting In, I need a vacation
And a simpler model of Projective Identification.
’Tis true, Mel, I find no rest
Against your chilly and empty breast.

Chorus:
Worshipper of Logos, Slave of Eidos
Why suffer ye duress at Mrs. Klein’s sumptuous Breast.

Mea Maxima Culpa! I admit my guilt
I’ve had it up to here! Right to the hilt!
With Breasts, Penises, and Feces aloft in the air,
Which move me to seek shelter behind any chair.
Less fearful am I of a room full of mace
Than being slapped by a Bad Breast across my face.
So, I wish you success and posthumous joys
And offer this last thought to serve as counterpoise:
If one Breast is good and the other we detest

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Where is there room in your theories, Mrs. Klein,
For a Good-Enough Breast?

Chorus:
(Chanted, this time, to cadence of football cheer)
Worshipper of Logos, Slave of Eidos
Let it go! Give it a rest! Paranoid thinking is the best!

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