The word ‘madness’ is all around. It targets me like a circus clown! Since I was little all I have done is run…Makeshift homes, pretend dark alleys, trails blazed by those of a similar pair of genes. Hence, I find myself, right in the middle of Ma and Pa’s frantic, mysterious, magical, machine.
Jesus, did I try to out run it!
Still, there is a sister…plain and insane.
A brother…annoyed by anger. Easily prompted to vulgar refrain.
Sober! I’ve managed to get off the ‘all soul’s train.’
I am not manic.
Neither the white or the black sheep.
I am just a poetic lesbian, living up North of Foolhardy Street.
Hangin’ on by bare thread of bare tire…hoping sanity and I,
will once meet.