over the side of a brimming mind

just less likely than others

will not live to see the good.

produce disease in yourself

expect a masterpiece.

notions have only wasted my time.

what has been done before

rather than an ornament,

are all in lunatic asylums.

there’s a seeker born every minute,

men are corrupt, laws are broken

wiser people so full of doubt,

who knew the storm.

vagaries of the crowd

waiting to be released.

they don’t even invite me

not knowing what comes next.

just the plain chaos of

undifferentiated weirdness.

the mess we have made of things

consists of drawing the line somewhere;

may be we won’t, blow up the planet.

in the right scale of values

it will roll in ecstasy.

best place for the next moment

should be obscene 

and not heard;

essential to my freedom

wear it inside, where it functions best.

respect than all your fine trappings.

reality is to go insane,

the whole form is compromised;

the last refuge of the complex,

people in an impudent way.

try to improve on them,

just a brief moment of vanity

if there is time enough,

the word you’re trying to think of;

want to annoy for the rest of your life.