Madness

You cannot document madness

until you yourself

have become mad,

but by then maybe it's

too late.

Imagine Nietzsche,

his brain out of breath.

Imagine Plath or Hemingway

on the bony knee of death.

Some people aren't mad,

but still there's a disconnect,

something clicked - or maybe it's

a form of genius.

See Hunter S. Thompson

or Cobain, a fine spattering

of blood and brain.

Shall we ride the madness train?

If you get on, there'll be no alighting:

you'll be frothing, fuming, rocking

and maybe, all the while, quietly writing.