The brain is a beautiful
country. It self-propagates,
blooming iterations like lichen
which, in time, shift
and harden. In yours,
Madagascar floats large
and far away, amphibian,
its tank full of super-fuel.
In the brains of the lemurs
at the sanctuary, Madagascar
abuts a major highway
near the Sunrise Biscuit Kitchen,
and a tambourine announces
innertime. So much
of our knowledge is built
on our knowledge.
What a silly, strange,
and mighty island.