Here's Mine:
Delusion
Madness was
Hoarding remnants,
Folded in books, lined
On shelves, and
In the choice
Of what’s to be saved.
What’s in your room?
Do they call it
Paranoia when
Down the hall they
Whisper, hold their
Hidden thoughts,
Glance at you after
You walk by?
Someone is writing down your name
On a list, someone
Has your file, your
Photo clipped on front, your
Number neatly beneath your name.
Someone floats
In and out of your periphery,
And when you have to
Tell someone
You do and
Afterward regret it.
Who are they?
They will
Diminish your life, your
Mind to a chemical imbalance or
Physiological disorder, those
People who walk through your door,
Full of normal
Talk and thoughts, they are
Saturated in
Cellular buzz and
Microchips, they
Eat sport utility and
Their hands hum with internet,
Interface, inter-office memo.
The tiny hairs on my arms
Prick up at their
Electric breath, their
Visions of tax shelters
And closet organizers.
We
Fill our lungs with air
When outdoors, and strings,
Find the colors of
The late afternoon, your
Careless eucalyptus,
And roll sound like dice
Across the carpet,
Kicking up the glove parsley
And sample size sarcophagi
That were matted down
On the open porch.
If I forget and
Leave my exoskeleton on the counter,
We still mail the chia pet
To Pompeii.
This madness, oh!
I am
Keeping mine.
