From their myriad euphemisms, I chose crazy
Why should they put me away?
For I only seek to be free
And I say, why put away what seeks to be free?
Confined to a cage……
Surely cages cause distress
I would wonder to ask the cubicle workers
Corralled in their Cuboidal cubism
Furthering notions of the march forward
Then am I crazy, would I not be part of cubism?
Am I the norm for the minority?
For the milieu seeks sanitized spaces
A linear pointed unfettered line of thought
While I go to different places of asymmetry
Adopt different pitches and gaits
As I seek the shelter of the library from the mid day sun
I espouse Schopenhauer seated on wasted tub chairs
I am at the back of a bus
My atonal eruptions being
Disdainfully reproached for an assumed nihilism
Or on the dark cavernous sooty damp subway platform
Where I pace hunchbacked, mercilessly trailing my thoughts along subway tiles
Aligning them to the confines of civilized cubism