(C) 1980’s by Howard Dart Humeston
If brains could fly
mine would flap sideways
and moon-dance all night long.
The tongues of stars long
since interstellar would
glint off my lobes
and some sparkle might
soak through.
My brain skips rope
with the celestial
souls so often it’s earned
frequent flyer miles.
I’ve star dust in my brain,
moonbeams for synapses,
and I can see things
only an air head could.