Map

Map

Open the glove compartment
take out the map
unfold it across the steering wheel
or the trunk of the car if it’s not raining
when you stop by an open field
you are here, there’s where you’re going

Open your brain, spread it out
gyri and sulci, grey matter, white matter
two and a half feet by two and a half feet
start the journey here
or there if it’s not raining

instructions are a function of
the extrapryramidal
motor system and cerebellum
if there’s spatial memory—driving by fields
the cow’s dark eyes surrounded by black-eyed Susans—
it’s the right hippocampus
left if words are attached
indian paint brush, queen anne’s lace
black-eyed Bess
associations are neo cortex
dark red love knot
long axons reaching across hemispheres following
major routes. Highwayman.
My grandmother recited every verse
from start to finish
short axons fine tune
lace, a pistol
amygdala
here that sad day
everything came down around you
the sky streaming through your heart in rivulets
you stop by the side of the road
downpour obliterating the landscape
you feel like this
this feels like you

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “Map

    • Thanks, Sunflower. I’m feeling fortunate indeed to have such a reader/viewer as you. You’ll be on my mind often, I’m sure, as new material unfolds. And I look forward to spending some more time with your work, too.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s