John Grey                                           jgrey10233@aol.com

The cranium treasures, when they arrived, were unexpected.

After that time, knowing what I know arrived on cue

like the Mississippi outside Aunt Jessie’s New Orleans home.

Yes, there is a mind Virginia, and it works adequately, even avidly at times.

It’s not afraid to admit that it remembers a name –

of a friend, even of the 33rd president.

It can configure a television remote

or even sort out where a leaking tap went wrong.

And while other body parts are caught up in yearning,

it can conclude. Even offer a defense.

I can easily convince an ox that I know more of its story

than it can possibly know about mine.

That doesn’t make it any less an ox.

But it guarantees that I’ll never be hitched to a plow.

John Grey is an Australian born poet. Recently published in Slant, Southern California

Review and Skidrow Penthouse with work upcoming in Bryant Literary Magazine, Natural Bridge and Soundings East.