The Lure of Delirium
The Lure
of Delirium
What’s wrong with being sane?
I’ll tell you:
Reality.
There it is before you:
All muddy and stinking of broken promises,
A conglomeration of disappointments,
Most of which are your own fucking fault.
But other clarities swim into view:
Matters not your own,
But heart-rending and ugly:
Starvation just miles down the road,
Hidden perhaps by the more genteel,
So as not to upset the children,
Or their parents.
Sanity allows one to understand,
The vast wrongness of conflict -
Wars propagated by ideology,
Religion,
Greed,
Or born of madness.
What lucidity clamors to comprehend
The assault of innocence
By contorted libido?
Or the wholesale murder
Of scores of people
Committing the sin of shopping?
In the face and fact of such things,
How do I retain
The soundness of my thoughts?
Or does the actuality of being capable
To envision and to speak of such things
Evidence that I too am twisted -
Far beyond hope of recovery?
Or does the very question
Determine that there is hope yet
And that I am only now dipping my toe
Into a dreamscape
That will at least allow me some peace of mind,
Instead seeing just one more tearful episode
Each hour… each day… all the time…
Cliff Lake 6/5/2023
Copyright © Clifford Lake 2023
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