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Rated: E · Poetry · Crime/Gangster · #1690744
sometimes i just can't stand what we've done to paradise!
arrest me--
i read poetry on the crapper

lock me up--
i am dangerously overjoyed with life

yeah, you better grab hold of me:
  i'm like a grassfire, driven by the wind
  running and licking up the edges
  of your house; callin out your youngest
  daughter, to dance in the moonlight,
  whispering quiet reassurances that every
  (unthinkable) joy is her right
  to expect;

yes, i am one dangerous
unit, unresigned to letting
life slip by unnoticed

chain me to the bedpost--
i have studied revolution, by kerosene light

get me, right now--
before my virus spreads

oh, you better quarantine my thoughts:
  although this epidemic is already roaring
  through the fabric of modern man's
  mind, eroding the very terra
  firma of your landscape (of hope-
  lessness), washing away the muck
  of empty time,and life's failure
  to inspire;

but
i am (truly) the very least
of your problems, just one
of many, many minds unwilling to stand, and observe
your defilement of life, so

arrest me.
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