Along for the Ride
they called it an e.r. but i knew better.
why the laying on of stones?
it's hard to get the words, numbers, figures.
somewhere outside a future lover will betray me.
brain lesions interfering like electricity.
a walk down the street, cement breathing.
brain tells chest wall to seize.
body cares not but goes along for the ride.
a lunar landscape sighs in my body.
body cares not about whereabouts of the disease.
an eleven-brained woman turns her head.
the girl in the photo shields her eyes.
the doctor made copies of her brain.
there was no one in the waiting room.
i'll go first if a gust of toxins comes.
eleven brains are better than one.
turn your head, girl in the photo.
wait for rain, hope for greater contrast.
the doctor made copies, stirred the broth:
the electric eyes of her brain did not blink
The Ceramic Bear
eleven pictures of the woman's brain in an interoffice
envelope. who will be the recipient?
the girl in the photo is unusually quiet tonight.
this is all taken into account by the ceramic bear.
the girl in the photo doesn't mind when the people
leave the room. the red sea parts for her.
the woman with the disease eases off the pedal.
let it coast, let it allow her to collide with god.
the girl in the photo meant to warn the woman.
the ceramic bear still struggles for breath.
Evelyn Posamentier lives and writes in California. The pieces below are part of an evolving series she thinks of as brainiography. Other pieces of brainiography have appeared in Born Magazine (in collaboration with digital artists John and Edward Harrison), Can We Have Our Ball Back?, DIAGRAM, Free Verse and the No Tell Motel.