The Way of The poet iS inSaniTy.

absurdity of life claims my mind,
and i think i'm the sanest guy around
but do i live in a world of my own creation,
or a government dreamland?

could i have been locked in a drug induced euphoria
that has me dreaming this life
as a garbage can reflection
of the world of rational design?

I'm the savior of man--- locked up by plot 
of great design
it's not of this dimention
something out there wants me to remain ignorant to myself

and you too.

so i remain calm
sedated
heavily drugged
and in a jar of formaldehyde on God's shelf
along with no others.
save jesus, who was a hippy freak too.