i dream about going mad

i dream about going mad:
tornado arms, flooding halls
with screech and drool,

soleslaps on pallored tiles,
when i sit at this computer,
plastic desk masked as maple,
little papers, more plastic
multicolored small baubles,
obsessively placed, packed
in tiny see-through drawers,

inboxes pixelated and in piles,
potted prisoners, family photos
arranged to calm the eyes
when cast down in exhaustion,

hiding from the bent napes
to the right, in the corner,
that tap ergonomic alphabets,
sweat over obscurity,

when i sit here,
think of our construction;
spine, spit, and skin—
an organism with layers
complex as earth,

how breath buzzes into words
learned, cadenced
pleas to doctors, children,
dying childhood dogs, devil,

brain’s ability to hold concrete
airport parking garages, résumés,
splinters, metaphors, recycling,
doubt, crown-crimes,
salt-breeze, believers,

mind’s continuous juggle
of dozenhundred ideas
of holistic healings
for our overwhelmed world,

or how we…