I plant brains out back to help me think. I can\u2019t say whose. In the mornings, I pour coffee over their folds and sprinkle the grounds as fertilizer. At night, the bodiless brains\u2019 dreams drift past my windows like jellyfish. I fall asleep watching them and their phosphorescence seeps into my own dreams. In these dreams, I am brainier than ever.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I am proud of my brains, so I write a letter to the brain people at the university in town. Secretly, I hope they will give me an honorary degree. A man in a lab coat comes and shakes my hand. He digs up my garden and bags the brains. When he thinks I\u2019m not looking, he kisses each one through the plastic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I ask if I can come visit and he tells me it will be best for everyone if I don\u2019t try to contact my brains at their new home. He leaves, and my garden is full of fresh dirt and coffee grounds. At night, the windows stay dark.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
________<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ruby Rorty is a poet, journalist, and environmental justice researcher in Chicago. Her work has appeared in<\/em> Cool Rock Repository,<\/em> Paddler Press,<\/em> and<\/em> Mythic Picnic Volume 8. Ruby tweets<\/em> @RortyRuby<\/a> and Instagrams<\/em> @ruby.rorty<\/em><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"