Scientists have proven
they can read our minds
scan our brains and tell us
modest secrets
like what number you have just seen
what letters you want to type.
The scans don’t look like brains at all
more like art you’d buy
from a tarot reader
or an oil spill
rainbows dancing on the sea
that you can’t help think
are pretty.
It’s hard to believe I have a brain at all
my gigantic life
crawling on its belly
through the maze of a grey lump
as though I just learned
the entire world
plays out inside
a snow globe.
Perhaps a scientist wouldn’t understand
the desire to live
at least partly
in the giddiness of the unknown
but it makes me want to volunteer
for their experiments
I would wear a low-cut top
and think racy things
just to watch
them blush.