I have always liked
(half-mad, because they can explain their madness—they can function—a drooling schizophrenic isn’t that interesting)
Who knows if
the mad response, is not the rational response—
most of society is repressed, anyway.
I write on an old typewriter to get the stories out
of click click… space bar…return
is music to my ears.
I love the smell of hot black ink.
When I write on this electric machine
from the 1970s
my emotions get out
of my body
and when I go to the grocery store to buy
I am completely vulnerable
at the roving mobs of male teenagers
at little girls in horse riding costumes with whips
at mothers who don’t want to be mothers, their jawlines set, like fighters
there isn’t much pride in the ring
just blood and sweat
and angry fans, chanting, “Give us a show!”
as I hold my breath, driving
out of the parking lot.
Yes, the question should be asked, am I crazy?
I don’t think so…
Most people are unwilling to examine
what they do
If they analyze that, and keep doing it
Maybe, they’re just negligent.
Which is more frightening, a parent who leaves a baby in a hot car
with 10 things on their mind
or a parent who doesn’t want a child anymore
Both are horrifying
Yes, the human race
will be finished
and I will be on the side-lines