Prefrontal cortex

The prefrontal cortex
likes a clean desk,
a pencil sharpened
to a point
that believes in tomorrow.

It enjoys filing cabinets:
cause before effect,
impulse behind glass,
ethics sitting upright
like a stiff,
well-behaved spine.

In the textbook,
it glows politely
in scans,
a quiet supervisor
counting out consequence.

But introduce hunger—
blood sugar thinning
the patience—
or the cold spike
of fear,
and the lights begin
to dim.

Poverty arrives
with paperwork,
forms that never finish,
questions that repeat,
and the cortex
checks its watch.

Chronic stress
does the rest,
flooding the floor
with cortisol,
a slow leak
that blurs the script,
loosens the synapses,
and misplaces
the years’ plan.

Nothing dramatic.
No slammed doors.

Just a steady reduction
in activation,
neurons firing
less often
to save on the bill.

Soon
the amygdala
is running the meeting;

Outside,
a man cuts a line
too sharply,
takes what fits his palm,
speaks before
weighing the sentence.

From the outside,
it looks like poor character,
bad choices taken personal.

But inside,
the moderator
has stepped out
for air,
left the chair warm,
trusting the room
to behave
until the heat goes down.

Majekodunmi O. Ebhohon is a Nigerian poet and playwright. He is the author of ‘The Great Delusion’, winner of the ANA Prize for Drama, 2025. He writes from Benin City, Edo State, Nigeria.
sankara101010@gmail.com_