The edge of insanity looks just like everywhere else.
Smells like gunpowder.
Sounds like a rip-roaring, good time or a flip-flop, fizzy pop,
Paper weights on roller skates.
A drowning clown.
Jelly beans are on the rise,
Swimming upside down.
Everything makes sense because twelve is equal to three.
Nothing is equal to everything.
Everything is equal to nothing.
Nothing times anything doesn’t exist,
Don’t try to complain.
There’s nothing to lose and nothing to gain.
I’m staying out of the wind and the rain.
Otherwise, I am everywhere.
I am a round, inside of a square.
Bet you’ve never, ever been there.
Not like this anyway.
Who would dare?
Trying and multiplying myself.
Why would you even care?
Now, I’ve got a thousand eyes.
Questioning whose and wheres and whys.
A blinding, blinking strobe light,
Another blinding insight,
Always wrong, but sometimes right.
If you don’t like it I’m willing to fight.
I have left myself on an empty shelf,
Trying not to run over myself.
For the rest of the day,
I’m going and growing and, going to play,
With a fish and a frog,
And, a fly and an elf.
What are you going to do?
Written, very quickly, by V. Castellanos – April 14, 2020