My colleague Liv Kristin recently wrote a post about late nights spent marking papers and how this made her think of Frost's lines "and miles to go before I sleep". I can certainly relate to this and reading what she wrote made me think of a poem that often comes to my mind when I have too much to do and feel like there just isn't room for anything else inside my head, namely Luke Yates' "I think my brain is coming out of my ears". I first encountered this poem on the London tube in 2001 as a "Poets on the underground"-poster and I just had to take it with me, so I took a quick photo of it that has been on my fridge ever since. The poet was only 16 when he wrote this and in 2001 he was acknowledged by The Poetry Society as one of the Foyle Young Poets of the Year. In these busy end-of-the-schoolyear-days I felt it was worth sharing:
I THINK MY BRAIN IS COMING OUT OF MY EARS
* Found a pink wet thing
like a prawn on my pillow this morning
felt it, smelt it, looked at it under the microscope
and I could see memories, rumours and dreams
scrawled in my handwriting over the surface.
I keep my bit of brain in a jar, feed it marmalade, call it Fred.
* Frightening to think what might be missing -
unexplained chunks of life.
(I can't find the remote). Tonight
I sleep, orifices stuffed
and my ears glued to the sides of my head.