Madness blisters
Across the bark
The writhering
Echos the mania
The dome cannot
Contain mutters
That bounce into
Stone windows
But escapes not
Into a full breath
But reverberates
Into the frame
The oscillating of
Whispers do not
Give a sense of
Peaceful wisdom
It incites dissent
And the animus
Is what blows
Out the eyeballs
And this is what
Life has become


3 old applause
