Those Who Dance Are Thought Mad By Those Who Do Not Hear the Music by KD Williams

My suffering is not unique. I feel the need to repeat 
this refrain since I’m writing another poem  
about my brain. My brain is not unique either—
but it might be the first 
brain of its kind that you see opened, pink and screaming, turned inside out on the table. 
The organ is delicate when exposed to open air, but strong
when held within my skull, given sleep and good food, allowed 
to strengthen pathways, rewire snapped synapses. Yet to write
this poem requires a cracking down the middle, a spilling of yolk,
and for its suffering that you can see, my brain will seem unique. 

You will pass through the world after 
thinking, remembering, wondering 
which heads house the same kind of matter, mattering just as much
as mine or—your brain, which is now thinking of itself—
how delicate those folds but strong when folded together
and between them— the electric popping of poetry—
of understanding and being understood. 
Know that when I see you, a nod means 
that I can hear the same music 
and my mind is dancing with yours. 
Photo by Mark Angelo on

About the Poet:

KD Williams is a nonbinary writer. They teach at local colleges and received their undergraduate degree from the University of Michigan. They earned an MFA from Stony Brook Southampton where they received the Stony Brook Short Fiction Award. Their work has been published in The Southampton Review and other publications.

One thought on “Those Who Dance Are Thought Mad By Those Who Do Not Hear the Music by KD Williams

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  1. Right on KD. I’m going to remember this next time I’m having a brain cramp either trying to understand myself or someone else. I trust that my neurons will appreciate the fluidity of the pathways. Thank you for your inspiration.

    Liked by 2 people

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