The Mad Creator
Mixing poetry and madness
In petri dishes made of cardboard
Searching for the perfect drink:
Make him drunk,
But not so he cannot write;
Make him numb,
But not so he cannot remember his dealings.
Make him learn to fly,
So he can learn to live like angels
To play God on paper,
But from the comfort of a desk;
From the comfort of a window,
Looking out at test subjects
Known as people,
Who know his name but not his face.
Not today’s face anyway.