I lift my forehead
and dig inside
pulling out long sheets
stained with ink
whose message
got mixed up
in the light.

I try to open other foreheads
but I don’t have the code —
robotic beings have the code
and will whisper it if i pay them
one hundred and twenty dollars an hour.
It takes fifty six hours to get half the code.

The lock on Takeo’s forehead broke
so it’s open all the time
allowing miniature beings to dive inside.
It’s constantly leaking
but it easily filters germs
making it immensely popular
among the forehead fetish crowd.

The president’s forehead
has a trillion dollar lock
but vision lock pickers
have published X-rays online
that document its hollowness
from empty side to empty side.
(The slideshow was available on youtube
but has been permanently removed
in the name of homeland security.)

Forehead scientists have published tomes
that students master in seven years
exposing pseudo-foreheads
whose typed list of perpetrators
include most polishitians
everyone on Fall Street
and cookie cutters
who spy on foreheads
in late hours of the night.

Crowds gather on city sidewalks
where foreheads occasionally open
in six to eight sphere slices.
Digital cameras are banned
from taking photographs
unless one dollar donations
are put in an old tin pail.

Eagles have been known to swoop down on
the entrails of pungent foreheads.
In one particular case,
the eagle could not sever its prize
from the wild man’s head
so it carried him away.
A group of bystanders
instantly converted to foreheadism.
They are currently designing a bird trap
from blueprints uncovered in their knees.

The number of forehead slayers
is growing at a such an alarming rate
that the governor of California
opened new prisons
to detain all forehead suspects.
(Meanwhile, the teachers union went on strike
since their demand to get the COLA adjustment
is now out of the question.)

The forehead recycling committee
is currently accepting all forehead parts
as long as they are placed in brown bins
and put on the curb for pickup
every hundred thousand years.
Since my forehead was exposed
to greenhouse gases
I decided to dump it in the bin.
The recycling guys shipped it away
to another star system for repairs.
I was following it with a mindscope
but reality got in my way
and I have lost the tracking number.

There is a forehead hotline
that recovers lost journeys
but I can’t afford to text message
on my current cell phone plan.

I posted a missed foreheads ad online
and someone whose cat found a forehead
in a malnourished country responded.
Three emails later,
after a marriage proposal
and a request for an immediate shipment of money,
I reported the scam
and the scam reported me.

I went to the doctor’s office
and demanded a new forehead.
The person at the front desk lifted me up
and threw me down the block
where insurance ads pointed,
laughed and hurled spit balls at me.

I tried using a porcelain bowl
to fully cover my forehead
but it slipped and fell
denting the hardwood floors.
The landlord is taking the repair out of my deposit.
I checked the forehead bill of rights
and if I can prove discrimination
I can sue and buy my own floor.

I want to go outside and look at other foreheads
but instead will invent a video game
based on the complex encoding of foreheads
that will take fifteen lifetimes to conquer.

Later, I will write a poem on foreheadology
and dedicate it to Bob Kaufman,
the only truly naked forehead
I have known.


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