MISCELLANEA



When the Poet met up with the Neurologist

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Thomasin Gillow
When the poet met up with the neurologist
the first thing she said was this,
how is it? 
that my brain,
with all the wonderful things it is,
has not yet learnt to kiss?
 
How is it that I can not open my head,
and take the thread
of my thoughts
and tie them to yours,
intertwine us together,
make you mine again, forever?
[etc...]
that my brain,
with all the wonderful things it is,
it has not yet learnt to kiss   
goodbye?
©International Society for Neurochemistry