After the bar I can't go home <br />Cos tonight I don't want be alone. <br />Want stimulation of mind, <br />So company I find. <br />I should go home and go to bed, <br />But I galavant through the night instead. <br />Chitting and chatting until I pass out, <br />Meeting like minds and the odd lout. <br /> <br />All give me fodder which feeds my brain, <br />My poetry's bread, and you are the grain, <br />The water, butter and the yeast. <br />At parties, ears revel at magnificent feast. <br />I am the baker kneading the dough, <br />Mixing the recipes, letting heat flow. <br />Rising concoctions of words so delicious. <br />They're your words, do you think they're malicious? <br /> <br />If you knock the bread you'll find the perfect hollow, <br />Where your thoughts can nestle in a warm glow <br />Of soft brain brioche, with a sweet, fresh smell. <br />Full of tangy currants, which, in your scone can dwell. <br />A clever croissant of poetic pastry design, <br />A gift to digest in your head from mine.<br /><br />Clare McWilliams<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/brain-brioche/
