Release your tongue and stand behind your skull.
See the pilots in your head?
Look how busy they be.
Frantic fingers mashing buttons.
Who? Who? Ha! Ha!
Chuckle at the chimpanzee buckled in your brain.
Rabid tooth marks adorn a plastic steering wheel.
Wipers fighting the truth from thunder’s wet bullets.
Hypnotized and dry in the rhythm of monotony.
A sea of skulls snoozing in clarity’s imitation.