Stay Strange

We talk of the elegy

Of our wastebin dreams.

We twirl on the grave

Of oh wells.


There are groves of

Refreshed perspectives,

There's no need

To avoid the glass shells.


Let us stomp

On the fragments that

May be lost,

Let us collage what

Refuses to change.


We scoff at the thought

Of conformity,

No painless road

Will let us stay strange.