I dance with the beast I do not name
of meat and bones and righteous rage;
a mean eyed, angry stamping thing
that shakes the floor and makes ears ring;
that stares down mediocraties
and rages for ascendancy;
a herd stampede through all my frame
that leaves me weak and near insane;
a force that gathers up its words
to pound those flimsy dubious worlds
where I have tried to take a seat,
contained, while others dumbly speak
their flimsy surface rhetoric
that sets me dancing with my beast.
No comments:
Post a Comment