Going Too Far

When I at last admitted my mistake
The ghouls came running like the wind, the wind
Blew into corners where the dust was pinned,
And dust itself cried, “Now, for pity’s sake,
Abandon all pretense and stand, awake
And firm in your admission! You have sinned!
Get underneath the bed with us!” I grinned:
“Going too far,” I said, with a head shake.

It’s been my own experience with rage:
Going too far, making too much of truth,
Replenishing my badly squandered youth
By also squandering my sour old age,
Insisting that the world is not a stage,
And crying that my mother was uncouth.