Bare Mind

(Our minds want clothes as much as our bodies.

Samuel Butler II)

My mind runs around in its bareskin

whenever I let it write.

Who am I, you may rightly ask,

if not my mind, its supervisor?

Obversely, Who is everyone else

that dresses for the world and page?

Set this aside for the moment, please,

and allow me to hang a moon.

If my mind were to go about wearing clothes

you would see no more than convention.

On the other hand, when it runs naked,

I don’t think it greatly different from yours,

but rather, that you haven’t thought about this

in the light and detail offered.

I know it’s a bit undignified

and usually quite unflattering,

sometimes even revolting, butt

there it is.