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Colloquia Topics Index [link]Art & Literature Index



Proud to be Crazy1

by
Josephy Jay Dross
__________________________________________________


They dump toxic wastes in our oceans,
And build nuclear bombs with the greatest devotion.
Some overlay their moldings in gold,
While souls lay sick and starving out in the cold.
Others would kill a man for his color or faith,
And carefully teach their children to hate.
Our Government squandered our birthright on weapons --
big bucks!
And only the wealthy stay healthy -- it sucks!
The greed has grown wild -- cancerous -- affecting
even the child.
Our leaders are thieves and cronies of crooks --
I won't even dare to take a last look.

Then, they tell me, "shape up, fall into the ranks,
don't be so abrupt!"
But in this here world to be well-adjusted
Would make me nauseous and make me disgusted.
I therefore offer no formal apology
For my all too abnormal psychology.

I'm proud to be crazy!! -- Proud! And not maybe.
Proud to be among the twisted --
To swing at the ordinary -- wild -- double fisted.
To be upside down from all the bullshit which is going
around
To be counter-culture? No! To be
counter-counter-culture.
On the opposite side of all that is "sane," --
On the wrong track -- in the opposite lane.
Proud to be queer -- to be daring
To be not here -- to have lost my bearings.

Republicans, Democrats and those who can't decide
Ramble on 'till their meaningless dribble collides.
Pro life, pro choice, pro abortion--
They won't strangle me in their twisted contortions.

I'm proud not to bow to the status quo order--
Beyond logic's reach -- South of the border.
Proud, and How! To slip out of confusion,
To choose and muse at my own illusions.

Medical men driving around in their Mercedes,
Pushing toxic and expensive drugs to pay for their
trip down the Hades.
Sue 'em for this, sue 'em for that
Sue for any damn thing at the drop of a hat.

I'm proud of my "dysfunction," -- Proud!! With no
compunctions.
Proud to believe what isn't is --
To have slipped into my own abyss.
Live in my own world -- forget about theirs.
Make my own rules -- cry my own tears.
Proud as Sam Picknick
To be a few sandwiches shy of a picnic.

Food companies on TV pushing sugared cereal for kids!
Government contractors with carefully rigged bids.
Sell this through sex, sell that through greed,
Sell anything you've got -- create some kind of need.

Proud to be grandiose -- wanna hear ME boast?
To hallucinate -- to be depressed
But to be in my very own mess.
Proud to hear voices -- to make unlikely and
"imprudent" choices.

To be in a straight jacket -- confined, maligned, but
in my own time.
To be unstable -- to be the star in my very own fable
-- to have "psycho" as my label.
Proud as a peacock to sort out all those blocks.

Go ahead, fools, irradiate our food,
Tell us we need it, we'll get in the mood.
Show us technicolor and stereophonic images of life --
We'll try to live up to it and triple our strife.

I'm proud to be nuts -- Proud!! With no buts.
To be on a bad trip - to land on Mars in a one man
Spaceship.
Proud to be perverse -- to have bats in the belfry --
to be socially and mentally unhealthy.
To be off my rocker -- to outshock the shocker.
To have a screw loose -- to have blown the main fuse.

To be deluded, to be secluded,
To take as LAW my own warped conjecture -- delusional
architecture --
I can't infect ya' -- but I can't protect ya'.
Proud as a King to be on a short string.

Yep, scale down the nukes for Third World World Wars,
Go into the used Plutonium business
Help melt us down to the core.
Double bill Medicaid,
Use Close Up Toothpaste and get laid.

I'm proud to be paranoid, not a bit annoyed,
Overjoyed to Out-Freud Freud.
To be mal adjusted -- to have mt hinges rusted.
Proud not to "fit in." Proud to report to the Loony
Bin.
To go to The Snake Pit for lunch -- To go to Pluto on
a wild hunch.
To be deficient -- to be absurd -- to hear things NO
ONE'S ever heard.
I'm pleased as Punch to be out to lunch.

Dementia Praecox -outwit the docs -- outfox the fox --
head full of rocks - wear mismatched socks -- live in
a box -- brace for the shocks -- exchange clock tics
for tocks - float through the locks,

And every single trifle is a virtual paradox.





© Joseph Jay Dross
New York, N.Y.

1991


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