To be insane
(for me)
is to be ravenous but unsatisfied
by any meat, milk, fruit, vegetable, seed, or nut,
to be a ragged beggar camping
over a mammoth vein of gold,
to be a black sheep long weary of vice
but still out of the fold,
to be insane
is to laugh uproariously
at the solemn happenings of the world,
to be a miserly child
counting and hoarding his toys,
to be as an escaped Southern slave
shaken to the core by every loud noise,
to be a barbarian at a posh soiree
longing for love and comraderie,
but devoid of manners and poise.
