A brain
That has calcified
Hard,
Immovable,
Dense…
There is too much
Detail to look at it
And there's no way
To see what's inside
Other than to hit it
And hit it so hard
It is destroyed
Pulverized
Dust
It used to be alive
And the immortality
Through its death
Reminds me
Of my own
And if there
Will be anything left
Other than
Something
That needs to be
Destroyed
In order for the
Observer to understand
It after its life
Is long gone…
Is that all I am
Is that my legacy
Something hard
Worn and calcified
By time
And the elements?
My life?
Hard
Inscrutable?
Never to be
Understood
Or remembered
Until after I am
Dead and destroyed?
Grey like my dreams
From childhood.
Grey matter
Alive now
But grey
After I am
Dead and gone too
I don't know
If I am worth more
As a living poet
A living artist
Or if my
Inscrutable
Words and art
Are worth more
When I am dead
Than when
I am alive.
