There was an idea
that grew in a brain —
not a clean break, but rather
a troubling sprain.
It swelled up and shut off
the centers of speech,
thus remaining hidden;
and just beyond reach
it festered, fermented
and spread like a rash
along the poor cortex
which gave up, and crashed.
But that was so long ago —
now the brain’s learned
to shun stray ideas
lest its pathways burn
with even the memory
of strange and queer thought;
to be safe, it forgets
most that it’s been taught
and so pretty thoughtless
it plods through the day —
imagining it has
always been this way.
Now dearly beloved,
believe this is true;
lest you want ideas
to happen to you.
08 DEC 2004
