What I fear most
More than a grey materializing in my bathroom
More than George Washington breathing heavy through a soggy, floatable cheery cherry smile
Showing me his precious compass-square engorged -
More than the cowardice of violence
The foolishness of threat
The embarrassment of lying
Or useless certainty of regret -
Is that
we have imagined ourselves into madness -
I could describe it in the typical ineffable Aquarian way,
But the confusion landfill is deep enough.
Maggots of mystery and worms of pure love feast on the sun-ripened carcass of magic.
We need
our imaginary madness
six packs and income tax
bottles and droppers of unpronounceable fear
to be valid, so we imagine
that fucking, stealing, and complaining
will make us so -
the fantasy of importance -
the delusion of end -
the psychosis of usefulness -
All the sadness we've created
at interest
and enforced with the threat of ending the joke early
can stop, madness and all,
if we remember that we are
not imaginers of love
but the imagination of it.
