I was delighted to learn late in 2015 that after scientists conducted a close examination of the one sexual body part no one obsesses over, it was concluded that human brains are not distinctly male or female.
That’s right – no real difference. Both sexes come to the dance with the same basic between-the-ears equipment. And yes, that standard equipment is capable of fantasy, intimacy, and lah-dee-dah poetry.
A research shelf is where they sat –
the bottled brains of May and Matt.
Who once, in life, met in a bar.
Now side-by-side, each in a jar.
Their first encounter didn’t last –
an opportunity both passed.
But in the lab, a perfect date,
paired up by color, size and weight.
The lab assistants, on a whim,
acquired hair for her and him.
Atop containers, fitted snug –
A girly wig. A manly rug.
The hair was fluffed and teased and plump.
They called them “Marilyn” and “Trump”
And everyone enjoyed the laughs
of brain jar hairstyles, over glass.
But years went by as well they must.
The jars and wigs collected dust.
Experiments were rather rare
for brains floating beneath fake hair.
Until the lids came off one day.
They lifted out both Matt and May
and placed them in sink to drain.
That’s a big deal for an old brain.
With samples taken, back they went.
To a container, each was sent.
Except no one had thought to ask
which brain belonged inside which flask.
But still they float inside their jars.
Which brain is Venus, and which Mars
has not been proven to this day
without the wig and the toupee.
Rhyme Wave 