John Grey email@example.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.