Poem-A-Day: Day 216

Moments of Incidentals

Brain is somehow a scar trapped lover
of all things incidental
mistakenly living in Cincinnati;
though to say it’s fond of Cincidentalati
would be outright facetious.

So do not,
avoid all costs
the mocking
that has become
so mesmerizing,
an infatuation
bordering the belt
of all things sane
and not so sane,
but somewhere
deep inside
the middle.

Because the brain responsible for clever gain
loves all things incidental
and painstakingly living in insanity;
though to say it resides in insandentalanity
would be downright correct.