Jerk in a Field, 36X29, John Brosio
the house I went mad in
it tip-toes its way
into the apartment I live in now
its brick drapes over
the white walls here
its ooze of barely
luminating light fills my new bedroom
my old home warns me never to let
my skeleton be strung together by the hard bones of intensity again
because it’s so easy after doing it for so many years
to still swing your clenched fists
even if they’re punching only at air
truthfully, I’d rather just stay a buffoon
that makes a woman giggle
in the face of staticky radios
and sandstorms in the kiddy parks
I’d even like to show the people
who only remember my insanity
that I looked upon them
with blooming eyes
way down beneath
the whirlpools of madness
and let my gaze say
“learn from me,
laugh so loud
you can’t hear the grave”______________
Dan Flore
