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Mad Enterprise

Having me a real hard time—freedom
out here where a stoned god
don’t speak my language
defiles the immaculate,
and I am going mad
in search of great enterprise.

In search of great enterprise,
I seek freedom
from the mad—
a stoned god
static in a sky, immaculate.
I listen for cosmic language.

I listen for cosmic language—
a holy enterprise.
Starless are the heavens, immaculate
in their freedom
from a stoned god
gone mad. 

Gone mad,
I lose language—
blame god
and his ego enterprise.
In his grasp, there is no freedom.
In me, I seek the immaculate.

In me, I seek the immaculate.
I embrace the mad—
my mad is freedom.
Language
is an enterprise.
I am my own god. 

I am my own god—
immaculate.
I am an enterprise.
Name me mad.
Speak my language.
I am freedom. 

Freedom, out here where a stoned god 
don’t speak my language defiles the immaculate.
Name me mad, for I am my own enterprise.

Copyright © Kindra Austin | Year Posted 2021

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Book: Shattered Sighs