A Celebration of Detachment

I’ve thought crazy things tonight,
things that befuddle and bamboozle,
send the brain all-zerfuddle and zarfoozle.

I thought the craziest things just then
Things about flyin’,
And things about dyin’
And how we’re headed towards an uncertain end

Oh, yes, the craziest things I thought
I thought how the forests,
With all their trees
Were like the dogs
With all their fleas
Oh, what crazy, whimsical thoughts were these

I saw the men,
With all their cares
And how they swelled
Beneath their hairs
And as they, the men, grew again
they destroyed the earth,
With knife and with pen

Crazy, splendidly foolish,
Pre-fucking-posterous things
Of the impossible feats
of the daywalkers and nightsleepers
All the lingo-talkers and when-sad-weepers
These deeds of the doers have bested all pursuers
And so they all walk on
This modern day

It is not altogether, this, what is me
And this, you might gather, is how it is to be
For if I’m to be free, and my heart aglee
I must think these crazy things
Or else I’ll no longer be