Comfort in madness.
Yet never a comfortable madness in friends who smile and extend a hand, same such they extend to him, a pudgy acid-hearted maggot boy.
So perk up, like the strong olfactory sensation of coffee percolating, or the sizzle of meat fat in a fry pan, it’s the uncomfortable that keeps all creatures sane.
For what would woodland harts be without the nearby ravine and the mountain lion prowling?
Comfortable.
And insane.
Pole Vaulting on the Sun 
…..
Went out looking for sweet madness.
Found only bitter reason to kiss.
Kindness’s remunerated by pain.
Punishment’s pleasure persists.
…..
Yrs inspired me. Don’t know if this is the right way to comment on a friends good poetry. But its fun anyhow.
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