THE SEA SQUIRT LOSES ITS MIND

It eats its own brain
once attached headfirst to a rock
where it will spend the rest of its brief life
the brain no longer needed since
it’s never going to move again

I recently settled in Sunset Lodge
last stop assisted living
in Walnut Creek, California
living a sessile existence
in a minuscule apartment

On the windowless sixteenth floor
never going anywhere again
no trips to science museums
wobbling on a walker
no beach vacations
dipping bunioned toes in salty brine

I sit in my chair all day
roots burrowing into blind earth
staring at wallpaper roses
while neurons blink out like morning stars
someone who looks like my daughter
says try yoga or tai chi

But my body barely moves anymore
my mind no longer scribbles memories
living between world and not world
yet I am alive, still alive inside my skin
counting rows and rows of pink roses