Another Brick

I lie strapped to a table.
A dark sterile room.
Red lasers crossing in zoom.
Lining up skull to table.
So robots can rotate.
Mapping brain to correct frame.
Pink Floyd streaming.

You are invisible.
You are applied in measure.
Given in small doses.
You navigate through me.
Computer guided feed.
Through bone and tissue.

There is no sensation.
No realization.
All this magic is numb.
Waiting inside my plastic mask.
Eyes squinting.
Teeth grunting.

A pop popping.
A zap zapping.
As Floyd fills this sterile void.
For years, just another brick in the wall.
Answering MRIs and radiations call.