Trapped in broca's area,
center of the storm, at last.
Outside, the world,
is just a pretty,
carousel to pass.
Figures murmur,
and they cry.
The carousel goes by.
Trapped in broca's area;
center of the storm, in peace.
Attend awake,
for karma’s sake;
there is no big surprise.
Figures blur; shrill mezzos hum.
Some wonder when and why.
Some don't care,
and watch the air;
the carousel goes bye.
In what part of the world do you live? South Carolina, USA
Title of Poem or Short Story (FOR ALL AUDIENCES ages 0-99) The Carousel Goes Bye