I remember a time when my brain was flexible, elastic;
like a good rubber band.

we would unwind all of the messy, pulsing coils and stretch them out until they became
one long grey intestine.

we jumped rope with it, and swung through the trees, laughing until our voices surrendered

yet as all intestines will do,
it has become sluggish, bloated with ****
and is wound tighter than a corporate watch

now every conversation is the devils Rubik's cube
and brainchildren don't come from a barren womb


so I've taken to adoption
and thrown em all in the backroom
where they lie cramped in bed
with little to eat, and less to do