brain poem

By: Lili Raynaud

Year: 2024

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it was thursday night

martini pick

  thru my frontal lobe

we wanted to see the ocean
half-drunk on a boardwalk lobotomy

the world was big & it was ours

we could’ve swallowed the moon

like a raw scallop
carved out of its shell with a swiss knife

& split in half
salty and pure
we could’ve swum the channel half blind

it’s like
a sting of the synapses
like finding layers of truth under this one

1,2,3, tug!

fishbones arent wishbones
but oh well make do with what you have

ask the genie dripping wet
where do i go from here

he says nothing
he says nothing
then a splash