Brains cells that bark

Brain cells are like a pack

of insatiably hungry wild dogs.

They are these

infinitesimally small dogs,

dogs of ceaseless sensing,

that are constantly gnawing

at every mind-fill’s chew.

These dogs alertly sense

objects worthy of inquiry

from everywhere

as if these dogs

were only composed

of salivating sensory mouths

already open

and filling their chops

before any object’s

actual substantive arrival

and invisibly,

almost in reflex

their voracious grind

of the mind

begins with this initial sensing.

Massive furious amounts

of tiny rapid piranha-like nibbles

are ever expanding their range

to accommodate

the intrusion’s whole.

There are

little observational nips,

deep cutting analytical bites,

grip and tears of comprehension,

right down to the grind

of the logical bones of it

then they lick and suck

at the soupy essence remains.

There is mind fury,

eating away

at each previous version

just nanoseconds old.

Only for these unquenchable dogs

to reduce and re-identify it.

Whatever the identification is,

there is the ever-chew

of these ravenous jaws.

This ongoing viciousness

is what we would call

the fisticuffs of mind friction

and within this dog-fest,

an object, perhaps any object

brought into this sensory awareness

is slowed of its natural state

until it is clear-cut

by recognition’s devour,

felled into an apparent known-ness

as if all of this canine mind-fest

were of the pack itself.

This pack

of these infinitesimally small dogs

fiercely each themselves,

in the first place,

yet all acting in unison

as one brutal say-so force

only to be truly identified as such

when the object of identification

under attack

is reduced from its original state

eventually to be humanly claimed

and there . . . right there

these almost invisible dogs

all of them as a pack

of cognitive brain cells

are standing-alone together . . .

milling amongst themselves

with no further objects

for their overriding intent

and we,

as simply the vacant mind ‘we’

who had just walked

into this room

where, all that remains,

is this ruins of something,

previously unknown

and we turn inward

towards this posse

of brain cell dogs

themselves

as if it is

one large imposing beast

of focus and intent

and say

“now, what did just you do?

What is this

thought-form mess here?

That’s a no no, no.

And all these dogs ever hear is,

“blah blah, blah, but new chew

blah blah, blah. . . new chew

blah blah, blah . . . new chew ”

(everything . . .

eventually . . .

and gloriously . . .

is brain cell chomped . . .)