by on October 4, 2023 :: 0 comments

Madness is everywhere in this town
And has come to take down this life, this
Never-ending series of
Being beaten down by those who love
To just show it off deluding themselves into
Convincing anyone they’re interesting
When we all know they most certainly
Are not. I see them everywhere in this
Lunatic asylum of a town and each time
It just makes me laugh; the woman
Who does her daily work-out, in leotard
& leggings, in the quiet room of the IT
Centre as I sit doing some of my own
Work, my own creeping madness as I
Send words into the literary establishment;
Or the campest karaoke king who struts
His thing from his job at the job centre &
Down on through the Saint James’s Street
Singing his heart out for everyone to
Hear and it’s never ever anything any good.

The truly mad ones, the ones that Kerouac
Dreamed of knowing, walk out of work and
Have shoes thrown at them by a homeless woman
Who they’re convinced is stalking them as she is
Forever turning up in all his old
Places where she’ll do nothing but scowl at him
Before he gets her thrown out. But eventually
The madness of the night, the madness of the
Street outside, will get to me and I’ll just be
Driven off home, back to my prison where I can
Let my guard drop if I want to as I continue on
This relentless pursuit of a total derangement,
Just like young dead Arthur had told, here lies
The path to infinite wisdom…

editors note:

His town, my town, your town, too. We’re all mad here. – mh clay

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