Most men are mad. Mad men welcome the crash. Mad men do not go gentle Into that good night. For the good children It is bedtime. Good children Sleep entirely too much. And so, The good children turn mad. Good children in the wild Turn the wild good. The call of the wild hums. Hums like the flies. Hums like the mighty conch. Good children praise the Lord. The wild child Becomes the Lord. The lord of the flies. And he, like most men Is Mad.
top of page
Recent Posts
See AllStill adjusting to this sycophant stage Stuck from some unsustainable craze Sitting under a sycamore’s shade Sulking in a sulfurous blaze...
50
“I cried today. It almost seems funny; you would always get so upset about how I never cry, and now here I am weeping like a child. I cry...
10
“I cried today. It almost seems funny; you would always get so upset about how I never cry, and now here I am weeping like a child. I cry...
20
bottom of page
Comments