Dreams

I'm committing a faux pas by publicizing a dream to, amongst others, internet strangers in Sri Lanka, Shreveport, and Shpunt. I usually keep these intimate moments to myself and a few loved ones, but if legions of versifiers can put mild epiphany to paper and see it off for publication and sale, certainly I can get in on the act as well.

I was tailing a man down the street when, of a sudden, he ducked into a medical clinic, the office therein holding a blind surgeon and that man whom the white-coated Doc was to operate on, the three of us surrounding a large wooden table. I signed off on the operation, and wasn't worried about the possibly bothersome issue of visual challenge to be undergone since the surgeon had an aura of beaming insouciance, a calm and becalming demeanor one often associates with Ramana Maharshi.

I started to head out the door, but stopped, and offhand, let go with this (in mock stentorian):

"The average human brain weighs approximately four pounds, and from the way it behaves, sometimes it should be taken out and given a damn good pounding."

(I fact-checked this later, and the brain is three pounds, so I was close.)

There's an Ezra joke in there somewhere, but I haven't found it yet.