Curse of the Medulla Oblongata

Five senses tuned, the world I see
For almost all it is, and what it can be
Only lately I’ve realized, an irony of the world,
‘Almost’ can be one hell of a word!

When I see a person, standing tall –
I draw conclusions ‘bout one and all
Bone, sinew, blood, mitochondria, flesh
Complex mechanisms into others meshed
I never see them for the phenomenon of their being
Thoughts, emotions, ideas are all that I’m seeing.
Each person, inevitably reduced to a visage
I ignore physicality and hunt for a mirage.
For what are people, but a disembodied voice
Floating before me, now naughty, now nice
Idyll, shattered oft by hurt or orgasm,
I reject real workings, and settle for phantasm.

When riding my scooter, trying not to fall –
I seldom imagine the wonder of it all
Nuts, bolts, fire, grease, metal, oil
Are all that keep me from meeting the soil
Inexplicable to me are the workings inside
And yet I enjoy my ride to the seaside
Wind in my hair, sun on my face
Ignorant and oblivious, into bliss I race
Now and then, though I stand at a loss
For carbon on a spark plug takes no shit from my floss!
Insolent and irritated I seek out some help,
That too in ignorance, only bills make me yelp!

This is how I lead my life, within and without,
For that which I cannot do, I pay to source it out
In summary, I think I’ve found who to blame
I blame evolution’s chaos that designed my brainstem
Deal with the devil that introduced this methodology
Let them care for details, perception’s elegy
If consciously to survive I‘d have had to run my body,
More aware I would’ve been; more ‘in it’; less moody
The abstract, absolute and rest of the abs-cess
Simply wouldn’t be – I wouldn’t be in this mess!
And howling about how this world is imperfect
Though at no more than a point I with reality intersect!

Next time, then, that I raise my voice
Calling the world names, stating a choice
Somebody slap me; and as an errata,
Remind me I’m alive due to an oblongata!