Huh?

[Hank's mom]

Well, it finally happened. Had to post a new poem. Sure there'll be typos, but if this is the audience that's painfully aware of fractured fingers, it'll be right on.

MEMORIAS NÚMERO UNO    Memories, Number One

A brain becomes a soggy thing,
an ashy mass, a dull edge,
its Humpty Dumpty skull
no longer buttressed against collapse,
becomes a mess of chalky shard and frizzed hair,
neither useful nor attractive,
leaving the contents of educated ravines–  
unprotected.

Too light to be grounded,
The mind flies away in the beaks of crows mistaken for
shiny adornments with tinsel and lost earrings
woven through sticks and feathers,
reducing memories to baubles,
allowing the unmoored mind to slip,
like greased pigs chased by boys in carnivals,
while the defined self is gone,
save for random burnt flakes
stuck to the walls of thought.

Oh yeah, don't forget to take your lactulose,
Susie

[Dude]

That is wonderful, I can't think of a better word to describe it! Publishable, to be sure. You've seen into my head, Susie! Been feelin' like a basket case lately... this puts it into a very clear image. I guess we're what's left of our life of living. All the schooling, the reading, the big challenges, the hard work and endless efforts to "make it"... in the end, you're left looking back down a long, battle-scarred hill, and you can't help but wonder, how did I make it here and where's the rest of my brain? I feel like I'm standing on the top of a huge landfill sized heap, and wanting to yell, "I won!", but knowing how little it matters, because there's not enough of me left to enjoy it now. I want my brain back! It's like an old sponge, smelly and worn 'till it's falling apart. And I want my body back! Battered and broken, limping along slowly, pains never give me rest.

Thank you, friend. Great writing talent. Keep going, never stop.