let us not be uncertain,
this map of ours is always
changing. let us run gallantly
towards insanity, headfirst, in
cart-pull-horse fashion.
let us listen with all ears
to our dead fathers and
contemporaries on different
parts of this path,
let us study their madness.
go now,
run,
dauntless till body gaunt
and thinner wire than current,
strung tighter than now,
let us get there because it
is the only way.
but how?
it is not the only direction!
let us first discern with
certainty the next direction
to follow from our map of
great confoundment.
let us get there or we,
gentlemen,
are all nothing.
insanity
diary entry from a shipmate
poetrythe oceans currents go into
circulate around in
and through my brain
on this damned ship
of which i am the only
sane man.
they save me when i jump,
nothing could be more
maddening,
having a ship of loons
save your life and call
you mad,
you.
i have forgotten where
we are going, though
the captain is assuring
us all that “we will
make it.”
his words sting worse
than the cold water
after leaping off
board.
must it be a 5th time
before they let me
float like an angel
in the ocean of god’s
arms?
the sieve and the sand 