There is going gradually insane
There is even shelter from time to time
Maybe a canopy for the truth
(plagued by frauds)
Which is no one’s fault
They’ve only themselves to blame
Then there’s underneath the bridge
Which can be made to stay longer on the way
This particular variety’s imaginary
The idea is (was) to get homeless and insanity
To sound like the other
The words themselves to feel like the other
Roll off the tongue unnoticed
That way it’s easier to press closer
And everyone sounds mad
Then... create a subjective world
Where insanity is like apple pie
And only stares upon the grunt
The powers that be manipulating the machinations
Shall inevitably end up completely insane themselves
But with such influences upon language
They’ll continue to mock the destitute
Then… when all are reasonably and completely insane
We’ll not be able to tell the damn difference
This madness is the only kind we know
© 2007 mrp/thepoetryman
Homeless Vets Tackle O'Reilly
