madness be damned

perpetual motion has been busting my fold
between wake and sleep
sometimes it is present when I am not
other times it sits on my lungs
it is following a bit too closely
fearing it will tease me and leap out the window
like dust particles that once belonged to the ground
in every room a pad and pen
the nagging words, nonsensical sometimes
inked and captured
if they aren’t, I do not rest
then it starts
each strand of hair yanked one by one
in every room a pad and pencil
images for the lopsided prose
forms exsanguinating from bodily dreams
I might lose my mind
alas, it would be something I’d capture
before the last grey cell disintegrates
perhaps I might finally understand
Ensor or Poe
minds wild
madness be damned

Although sometimes I have felt that I held fire in my hands and spread a page with shining, I have never lost the weight of clumsiness, of ignorance, of aching inability
–John Steinbeck

TopHead

My little madman is losing his head to hats…

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