in rooms of children studying from closed books, i learn
to know life is to know death; something about madness.
with no exits, only my madness and wits to maintain some
semblance of status quo, the clowns reign in on the parade…
marching in on the overlords of time and altering the rules
to fit into the madness descending upon the entire world,
this is the end… this is the final nail in the coffin.
the fractures of broken access points of the jester’s axis
began slowly bleeding over time, feeling thickly viscotic.
nothing disturbs the children from their empty studies
except the virtually tangible flow of binary code; lost
souls on fire and drowning in ignorance and safety…
what ever happened to the heaven of nineteen-ninety one?
while the tendency is to believe ignorance is bliss
and knowledge is power; the reality is neither holds power.
like a rainbow choking on romantic poetry, the madness
is all there is and all there will ever be. simple obsession
milking the goddess from her breast post haste into my mouth,
i see the blood in the moon light transpierce the fractures
of the jester. the clown and the madman are the jester, like me…
but the blood from her teat vivifies my soul to a fault; reality
is restored in the epoch of the new and beautiful tragedy.