Monday, October 16, 2006


Fully frontal lobey brain-box
fires neurons willy-nill,
medulla oblongata
struggles upwards down a hill.

I have a hypothalamus
that shows me when to drink,
I take it walks at suppertime
and wash it in the sink.

Parietal lobe is touchy,
it tells me where I’m not,
and if my lager’s icefull cold,
or when the sun gets hot.

Brainstem pumpy heartbeat,
the liver listens too,
it talks all viscery vessels
and tells them what to do.

Logical left hemisphart
lets me play with thought,
county numbers – one, two, three,
and even conceive nought.

Holistic right-wing counterpart,
instructs in far and near,
I move without collidy things,
unless I’ve had some beer.

I hope I never lose this brain,
it’s more than words can buy,
just keep it hid inside my head
then free it when I die.

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