It is possible they’re telling the truth.
You must be mad to want to live
With dammed-up rivers of eternal youth
And jobs that take all your give.
But live you must (somehow! somehow!)
Raisin desire clutched to your breast
Beaten heart throbbing in your paw
Mad yellow ribbons holding up the rest.
Hold that hot madness in your eyes
And never blink, never get too sane.
That’s the latest pop advice:
Keep your crumb of madness safe.
On moonless nights, wear a leash as you step out.
They whisper that you’ve lost it; dispel all doubt.
