I'm mad as a hatter in Oz
with Dorothy's typewriter
   for infinite time and I will write
   the poetry of Charles Bukowski
   and Yeats and Plath and every small
   poet with nitro in the pen to speak
   of joy and pain and love and hate
   and indifference and weakness and
   courage and never knowing the
   reasons, understanding the human.
   Anonymous we're mist in our lives.
   We all die little deaths forgotten
   in our loved ones' deaths. Good news
   our cruelties will be forgotten too.