And the sane call them mad for their lack of sanity
And because the insane offer no suffering profanity
In the streets of this whole underworld filth-sin city
Stretched like a femdom over the country.
And the sane call them mad for their lack of obscenity
As they pour victuals on objects of their own identity
Because men and women hold nothing to masculinity
In the pockets of their clothed wise obscurity.
And the sane call the mad for their lack of vanity
As they kneel and pray in streets with no propriety
Ignoring convention and all its boorish frigidity
From the cathode asylum of society’s insanity.
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