Tuesday, January 3, 2012


Crazy's only crazy until it really is the end.
Then all of your worries about the worth of the world
are suddenly validated.

Put another way, maybe mental illness is relative to its context.
For example, we'd all seem a little insane
preoccupied with raking the leaves and watering the lawn,
making our endless to-do lists and resolutions,
crossing and adding, subtracting and erasing,
if in reality, the world really was coming to an end
hurtling toward a hidden planet hitherto unknown.

It would be beautiful though,
a fiery apocalypse to end the earth
with dueling stars across the sky
and surreal shadows slipping across the lawn.

Then suddenly her crazy obsession 
with the end
and the evil of humanity
transforms from a deluded rant
into prophesy.

3 January 2012

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