The Dance of the Mad Poet

All around me sheer nonsense
Blunt stupidity
The cows they lack reason
Slaved alacrity.

The hours they pass
And no action is taken
The herds marches onward
Their ease is unshaken.

Laugh, if you will
At the cruel abomination
Smirk, to endure
Life’s long desecration.

Cry, if you can
To mourn the great loss
Wail, to show measure
For the lives of great cost.

Do nothing and confirm
Your lost human self
Entranced by the spectacle
Of an orgy of wealth.

But I, being mad,
I instead will go dance
On the towers that shimmer
Smearing mud at my chance.

For the glimmer and shimmer
Of opulent spires
Says nothing of value
Just employment and fires.

So I’ll kick up the muck
The dirt and the dust
I’ll besmirch all the splendor
That ensnares human lust.

But is it right to save them?
These cattle and sheep?
To tear down the cages
And wake them from sleep?

For stupidity is not
A burden all just endure
It can be requested and granted
Even seen as a cure.

For these cows applaud fools
These sheep follow thieves,
And the herd, it goes on
And happily believes.

But if I, knowing all this
Do nothing to make change
Am I not simply another
Mindless beast on the range?

So my dance will go on
As a dance of the word
And may awareness soon come
For those who have heard.

Metaphor, allegory
Allusions to the past
These are steps to the movement
Though the rhythm seems fast.

Whether you’ll join me or watch
This mad dance will go on
Tireless through evening
Awaiting signs of the dawn.

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