poem, poetry, Uncategorized

cortex

it is good for wind to work on something.
taking time. all things get smooth and small,
and all things want for caress.
sitting for hours, working it through with your fingers
until it is done and you’ve made something
a daisy chain, or a pair of shoes —
or, by pushing your thumbs away and hanging on
to the creases of something’s face
it’s not so much another face
as it is the properties have changed
and you might not remember something anymore
the author always said: the real umbilical cord to the past was eaten!
that means it’s in something’s stomach now.
can you imagine an umbilical cord with a prefrontal cortex? god.
for something to become tired, it must be worked down.
after mumbling, there is silence. the mind is setting.
if you are sleeping and something is talking to you,
you may mind or not, after all.
Advertisements
Standard

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s