Hairbrain (1988)

  

(For A.) 

After growing out with her hair for eight years they shave it half off just to have a poke at the brain 

Thinking they'd find a packrat nest of goodies that could be split, dissected and displayed, inner hydraulics of an egg yolk

But once inside they saw it was a matter of poetry 

A crystal exploding it's skin of snowflakes under saltplain of skull;

Branching out from within, the mass disturbed optical nerves& skewered the fragile Pandora's jar of mathematics 

Releasing dread visions of incongruencies to the native as a cavalry of auditors came clattering in mumbling normal is as normal does 

Taxing& naming each representation of the whole as it passed on a conveyor belt like a river 

Leaving warts off the map as they came to the headwaters of exponential isolation thundering beneath  tall velvet curtains of purple:  mists of anaesthetic music: 

It was you times you plus the anxiety of all the loved ones, the ones waiting for the end of the beautiful day which was parted with a scalpel that carved your skull 

You head covers with scaffolding of gas tubes, blacklights and disco balls, electronic tweezers 

As they rummaged day's cerebral junkyard knee-deep in close-captioned styrofoam of mystery 

They tripped and came face to faceless with their selves, learning meaning without having read the book. Henceforth and so on, I too 

Translate everything into my own language so I may stroke the hair of shadow, if not the real thing 

All the gliding half-unseen victorian Memories lined up against my Rosetta stone 

Checking their licenses like eggs illuminating innards with an introspective candle 

I wake from the dream of yesterday as sun spins thru window your hair, wrapping my wristwatch & teaching me to ignore the prodding of minor gods 

Indoctrinating me with will to let it heal itself into gnarled richness and therein whimper 

With lifelines out to each tastego, we pull thru the ambergris of experience to slap down an oil of it's image 

A stylish scarf covers the shaved area which reflects a landscape of floral arrangements, each bearing an enveloped headache 

That insist we're childproof bottles, even as we bleed on the surgical hill daring the stars to twinkle a question 

Lawrence, KS 1988

Published in Caliban