In Praise of the Rant

When you walked in there

was suddenly more common

sense in our room than the

walls could handle and

they began to buckle and

crackle and all of us

began to scream and scream

until you finally left us

to wallow in our insanity

and ridiculousness until the

day we confront the logical

causing it to surrender

to us with hopeless groveling

that will look like you

when you learn that strength

is in more than just sense

or reason or any other

institution of the sane

that is forever trying to

block out its enemy and

repair the walls of the

world’s wisdom that ignores

the bright bold paint of

the ridiculous—the anti-logic

rioters who build houses

out of materials such as

laughter and the dust

that gathers on leaves

preventing them from breathing

the air of freedom and preventing

them from eating sunlight

coming through the windows

that we open with our

dreaming on dark nights

that make you want to forget

you can dream and make us

wish we never forgot our

dreams that tempt us

like distant music performed

by the great composers themselves—

those men and women

who saw through the structure

of silence and played

into sound—who learned

this game better than

many of us, no matter how hard

we try to master its

nuances with our quick

and restless minds that

are forever at war with

our greedy bodies that

insist we feed them

and clothe them and

worry about them until

we are driven to curl in

a corner and rock and cry

and wish that common

sense didn’t win the

game so often and so

often send trucks to

demolish our carefully

constructed houses in

the night when we are

listening to our dreams

and the logic-lovers

are not.

The End

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