Brain Matter

So far my recent ‘ticcing fits’ haven’t produced many funny moments, with the possible exception of the persistent repetition of an early ’80s tennis star’s name. Today though, while I was writhing around having my sixth ‘fit’, this poem came out all in one go:

“My brain is made of flour,
My brain is made of dust,
My brain is made of cotton buds and
Horticultural fuss.”

One Response to Brain Matter

  1. villafane55 says:

    I am "only" 58, but my brain often feels like mush. This little poem resonates with me. 😀

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