Upon his shoulders, his skull sits poised for excellence. Heavy is the head that's held in hands, fingers tangled in convoluted thoughts. Inner ear infections are the source of misdirection for imbalance is brought to him by a compromised equilibrium. He thinks, therefore he is qualified to make this judgment. Big brains do not equal brains full and wise. A wrinkle in mind draws an erratic line. The stars can be connected by dots. Out there it would make sense to follow the linear narrative to its logical conclusion . In here, there is no sense to be made. We can pretend to understand but we are adrift in head space. Always when we wonder, we are lost. We are lost in wander, are we not? Just when he thought his head would explode, it probably does. The unobservant we is too busy checking subject-verb agreement to notice the gray matter dripping from our earlobes. As we finish the last heaping spoonfuls of our breakfast cereal, we ask ourselves aloud, "What was he thinking?"