Wednesday, July 27, 2016

What Are the Chances Your Mind's Made of Branches

What are the chances your mind’s made of branches?
You brainstem’s a trunk that is wooden and tall
Your consciousness swings through the treetops, not stopping
To wonder just why there are branches at all
At one bifurcation are thoughts of vacation
The next mental split contains thoughts of your mum
Nostalgia for grade school has sprouted nearby
On the end of a branch, in the form of a plum
In one of the branches an owl is resting
He watches your mind with a skeptical frown
When your consciousness gets too rambunctious
He ruffles his feathers and hoots: “Mind yourself! Settle down!”
Some branches are missing—they’re things you’ve forgotten
Don’t sweat; it’s just pruning, it’s good for the tree
Some of the branches are knobby and crooked
They also have knowledge, so just let them be.
If you doubt that your mind’s made of branches
Just look at a neuron up close—see its willowy arms?
You can’t see the settle-down owl in the neurons
But invisibility’s part of its charm
So if you get depressed or you’re having a rough one
Imagine the tree that’s inside of your head
It’s a beautiful fractal with spindly dactyls
And will be forever. (At least ‘til you’re dead.)

Thursday, July 14, 2016

The Merry-Go-Found

Your keys aren’t lost, you’re keys aren’t gone
You didn’t leave them on the ground
They simply floated to the merry-go-found
To the merry-go-found in the sky
The match to your sock ain’t gone astray
It ain’t grown legs and walked away
It just floated off to the merry-go-found
The merry-go-found in the sky
Your headphones, glasses, and library card
Weren’t left at the store or dropped in the yard
They’ve just floated off to the merry-go-found
The merry-go-found in the sky
And Grandpa’s watch chain made of gold
You got when you were five years old
It wasn’t stolen, lost or sold
It just floated off to the merry-go-found
The merry-go-found in the sky
And the Hoisin sauce you’re sure you bought
And thought maybe you left in the parking lot
Has just floated off to the merry-go-found
The merry-go-found in the sky
And you’re wondering now: Well, what is the cost
To get there? To fetch all the things that I’ve lost?
But you should know, should know quite clear
That you have to be lost to someone dear
In order to float to the merry-go-found
The merry-go-found in the sky
So make your choice and pick your poison:
Stay close to the loved ones you’ve already chosen?
Or reunite with your headphones, your keys and the Hoisin
At the merry-go-found in the sky?
Look, I won’t blame you either way
I won’t tell you to go, won’t tell you to stay
For a price, I will even be willing to lie
And say to your loved ones: “So sorry, he died.”
To spare them from knowing you went to the sky
To retrieve all those items of yours
And if you go, you can’t come back
But please throw down my hackey sack
I lost it just a li’l while back
But I don’t mean ‘lost’, I just mean that
It’s hitchin’ a ride on the merry-go-found
The merry-go-found in the sky.