Carnival Game
Carnival Game
AGE 22 - Las Vegas
As you lose your mind, insane becomes a word
to speak of garbage men instead of smelly,
children instead of curious,
and winds instead of cool.
Whereas you saw just yesterday
a contradiction (or small double-standard)
now insanity doth tyrannize
the dignities of all who go, or stay:
who follow, or digress; who speak or moan.
The purse snatcher took reason from your arm —
that sacred property; that high accord!
Now squally tides of madness and of fire
impune the backyards of the thinker, doer,
dreamer, magnate, sycophant and squire.
Woe to its interceptor! Flailing arm
of attribution, sloughing poison clouds
incendiary to the saboteur
but harmless to the target.
Whenso the archer looses,
the bullseye returns the favor.
Roughshod, loosely-construed —
your hatred
bellows to retire.
But no ballista balks;
the more you shoot,
the more bolts burst forth from your breast!
You shake with your fist,
as you curse with your tongue:
“Fool! You’ve sent me out here to my death!”
There is no place as crazy
as home fucking home.
No one there sees you bleeding to death.
♥️
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