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Does the Brain Think?

No. Does the foot walk?

No.

Does the brain make us dream?

No.

The wind of the cosmos blows through us and plays us.

When we dream it plays us, in dream fashion.

When we wake it plays us in waking fashion.

Like a flute on the one hand and on the other hand a sax.

Does the Brain Think?
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For Alice Waiting Just Outside the Room

Our now kisses the future and the future kisses back.

The depression left by a thumb in a warm thigh

Let’s us sit still for a moment and the moment rushes by.

But I stand there holding a basket of spiracles and brouhahas

And I can see the question in her eyes it is

“How would you have it if no having adhered to flesh?”

The cumuli drip but before the storm they didn’t know what they were preparing.

And teetering top to bottom I tap my tongue on the alveolar ridge

Three times. And my alveoli, the human spiracle expire my spirit

And l’m faced with a bruise in the firmament like an unwanted kid

Who has to knock down a tower every day to scavenge love from the rebar

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some kind of garrulous bird

telling me its theory

that the soul is a sphere

but then it corrects itself

it is constantly correcting itself

and says it is not actually a sphere

but we call it a sphere in order to convey

that it lacks any sort of lack or insufficiency

it takes a stick in its beak, it clears the ground with its wings

and starts sketching a system. it draws a circle and labels it

“language” and then on the perimeter it writes “reality”

and then draws another circle around those two and labels that “the

complign sphere of intercessionality” and then it says — look, beyond that circumference

Do you see? Do you see? SQUAWK SQUAWK SQUAWK Do you see?

The wings of the bird are blowing up the dirt where it (he? she?) drew its diagrams the sky

is too dark to see it is an orange red, the spirit of my father and mother are forming on the whirlwind

my heart is in my mouth, dust is in my mouth, I cannot see or hear, I think this will be the day I am born.

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The New Duchess

(after Browning)

This Duchess is nothing like

The Last Duchess. the Last Duchess

Had a row of colored lights

This tells lies about places she’s never been.

She says the Old King kept her in a bamboo cage

And tickled her through the stems

With a crow feather. She says

She had to learn verses to earn clothes.

The Old King was not like that.

He passed laws. He wore an ermine cape.

He had a fine mustache…

He passed laws. He was a merry old soul.

He never did like that though

He held a crow feather at all times

With a peculiar smell.

The Old Duchess was smooth to the touch

And hummed when she was working properly.

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cerval

man has cervices and pink lips in ’em

and I do too and I do too

to vocalize. etheriums apprehending

this big-eared cat with spots

mysteriums tremending

the one who gots what he gots

his name is cerval. lookit’m four feet

do leap do leap

lookit’m tail wah! cerval cat.

nor caracal not ocelot nor lynx

he got ceviches in his niches

he bedizen the horizon in crepuscular zeiten

Eheu!

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a frisson of a wagon — ah!

a frisson of a wagon – ah!

and tourmalines and olives

beckoning not promising

a presentation of a moment -well!

they carried on a gurney – that

is something to poke with the tongue

oh the cliff-dwellers! oh the painted rocks!

oh the petroglyphs. The petroglyphs.

The petroglyphs…

Paint it on the tongue. Paint it on the tongue.

Unwrap the present. Dapple the moment.

Stipple the tongue. With sugar now

Now now now now now and with icing

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Final Exam

  1. Use “carnatic” in a sentence. A carnatic streetfair.
  2. Tell the children why they would come into the golden room. There’s lovely things to eat there.
  3. If your answer to question two involved things to eat, what are those things? Plums, sir.
  4. And? Peaches, sir.
  5. Will you come to the carnatic streetfair with me? It would be my pleasure.
  6. Distinguish between “carnatic” and “carnatatic” and “carnaticity” giving an example in each case. Oh the wind is rushing through my hair and making it tickle my face, and I’m licking my lips, and they are drenching me oh!oh!oh! with the water from the wagons and then behind them all the greatest wagon of them all The Juggernaut, Jaga Natha, Ia! Ia! Ia! Believe, beware, and behold!
  7. And are you satisfied now, Marcia? For a bit maybe, maybe for a bit, but you answer me, do you really want me to be or not?
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