by R.S. Jacobs
There is talk going around
That I am off my rocker.
I’m here to say that ain’t true.
My head may be a goldfish,
But I sure am not insane.
You can’t believe a word you hear.
I am the sanest man alive.
These rumors need to stop at once.
Just ’cause I repeat myself, self
Does not mean I am not insane…not.
Can an insane man write a poem?
I submit to you that he cannot.
If that’s the case, then sane I must be.
I smell blue in the aftermorning.
Insane? Nope, not me. I’m not insane.
Jellyfish wildflower pancakes mud?
Gourd gourd and pilfering lemon grass soon.
Worm gold but a cauldron goose moose phantom.
Ribbit ribbit bark bark meow meow neigh baah.
Hope I’ve convinced you I’m not insane…insane.