Don't ask a man
His reason for the life he leads
He'll make it up, a forgery
He'll take it for a challenge
To his right to be.

Why hope for reason, we
Who are just flesh
Unruly neurons, sharing
Pulses
Of Electricity?

Massively parallel,
All at once
They fire in patterns of association
Here to there to over there
And round again.

There's no reason
In a million pulses
Of Electricity.

Just chaos formed
After the fact
Into order, like a dream.