DON’T PICK MY BRAIN. By Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal

Don’t pick my brain.

There is nothing 

there. Don’t pick my

bones. I don’t taste 

too good. Don’t pick

a fight with me

because I’ll let

you win. Don’t pick

sides because I

don’t care at all

to be chosen

or pushed away.

Don’t pick my eyes

out vulture. I

will not provide 

a single ounce

of nourishment.

Luis was born in Mexico, lives in California, and works in the mental health 

field in Los Angeles, CA. His poems have appeared in Ariel Chart, Beatnik Cowboy,

Dope Fiend Daily, Unlikely Stories, and Zygote In My Coffee.