The brain is just a few pounds of lipids
That ballasts the head upon our shoulders
Somehow, magically, it sees & listens
Making reality without borders
What we feel, see, hear, smell, taste or might know
Is strained & sorted through that blob of fat
It’s a perfect & flawed way to thoughts stowe
Paradoxically it’s the way to know
In its greasy folds (gyri & sulci*)
All of reality’s manufactured
It’s in our cranium that things apply
Added, subtracted, & then divided
The whole world is made by the human brain
Where people find both their pleasure & pain