Living in your head
Is like living in a maze
Of wildfire;
Thoughts never stop, but they burn.
I wish I never stepped in.

My mind seems to float
in shadows of rising mist
Mysteries of time

Yup, you red correctly,
     this noggin must go
     perhaps donated
     to the Salvation Army, or Good Will
cuz, said atrophied cranial
     horridly styled comfortably numb skull,
     the source of immeasurable

     beg hot ten woe, from dawn to dusk
     nothing boot eve ville
hollow cavity mainly comprised
     of wooly webbed weaving waste,
     uber sawdust, sans Schuylkill
     River effluvium and runoff rotten rill
hence, e'en a think tank

     designated as Abby Normal
     formerly atop a body named Phil
lip, or Wright winged Orville
one half brotherly duo,

     the other sibling Wilbur,
     whom both made a mill
yen legends getting airborne their lil
mechanical contraption

     atop Kitty Hawk,
     North Carolina with bi sic ****
mechanical aptitude,
     when born aloft **** Devil Hill

synonymous making fin hushed
     blue prints emulating
     flying fish, whose grill
like cartilage backbone

     precursor to Evil
Knievel, who soared
     on his motorcycle a devil
lush daring stuntman,

     whose helmeted crown
     full pursestrings muted cavil
ling critics with legitimate enterprise
     earning gobs of legal tender,

     whence aye aver
     his mugshot ought to appear
     on common denomination bill
and/or honoring throughout
     the entire month of April.