no fear too dear to impress his
plan a planet man.
no doubt, out loudt
harping on NOT's insanity
he fairly primed my vanity
he called me "really crazed"
ell, am I wrong, it seemed like praise.
he shouted, "off his rocker."
I demurred and murmured "talker"
He leaped and shrieked " He's Mad!"
I brazen beamed..."Damn Glad!"
Pointing, he laughed, "far gone".
The swan that awoke to dawn, would have believed it done.
but went on from there:
to insist, and thus a saint.
I faint.
a cynic smile wreaths round our necks
to poison gods. And tend to garden snakes |