Written By: John Grey
It’s merely a cerebral cortex
connected by synapses
to thousands of neurons.
While it has many memories,
it has always lacked for ideas.
The most it’s ever done for you
is to choose a restaurant
for an evening with your date –
Chinese or Italian?
and, even then,
the decision had more to do
with your taste buds
and your gut
than anything happening
in your ganglia.
There’s no great works of literature
festering up there,
no cure for cancer,
no solution to the city’s traffic woes.
What I’m saying is
that if your brain were removed,
it would be no great loss
to civilization.
And, once its binds
to your body were cut,
you wouldn’t even notice it was missing.
My advice to you is
to find two small blank cards,
writer “Chinese” on one,
“Italian” on the other
and then, when it’s time to decide,
close your eyes and pick one.
Meanwhile, I’ll be implanting
your unimpressive brain
into this body I’ve patched together
from disinterred body parts.
The next lightning strike
will zap my castle’s turret conductor,
send an infinite number of volts
through the wiring,
down into my basement lab where,
with one loud zap,
will bring my creation to life.
“Chinese tonight, master,” it will mutter.
I can hear it now.
John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in Shift, Trampoline and Flights. Latest books, “Bittersweet”, “Subject Matters” and “Between Two Fires” are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in Levitate, White Wall Review and Willow Review.