Brains
I've found that my brain works better outside my head, then
inside it. When I unzip my head and take out my brain I
definitely think clearer.
I take my brain with me when I go busking in the tunnel that
leads to the railway station. It's always dark and creepy down
there, there's always commuters sneaking about in Halloween
masks, and metho drinkers falling over, and smashing their
heads on the concrete.
There's a woman who goes down there who plays the saxophone,
wild improvisations like John Coltrane. She makes a lot of noise,
spiders crawl out of her saxophone and build cobwebs around her
face, she lets me eat them sometimes.
The commuters are always surprised when I unzip my head, take
out my brain, and put it in my empty guitar case, but my guitar
was smashed to pulp by a bouncer outside a club a long time ago.
Busking with my brain is the best I can do. It doesn't matter they
throw coins anyway.
I pick up my brain and fondle it, pressing and poking the grey
matter with my dirty fingers. I toss it in the air and catch it. The
commuters like that.
I hear stilleto heels approach. She looks too good for me, an attractive
office worker from a shampoo commercial...silk blouse...wedding ring...
- That's a lovely brain you have, can I hold it?
- If you like.
She starts caressing my brain. I feel wave upon wave of pleasure.
Then she unzips her head and gives me her brain. I stroke it, she
starts speaking in tongues...
- Was it good for you?
She asks, and gives me a kiss on my forehead.
- Yeh, better than using a condom!
- Eat me!
So I do what I'm told and eat her brain. And she eats mine, and now we're
just a pair of brainless commuter zombies heading down the tunnel
to wait for a train...
© Copyright 2018 tom mcmullen. All rights reserved.
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