Interrobang Poem

Interrobang Poem

Cognitive dissonance
With a twist?
And a spike!
Or is it a dagger?!

Twisting around in the folds of my brain
The spike is vodka, or is it tequila…
Clarity.
Dissonant clarity.
Dagger twists and opens the folds
That I have fought so hard to keep shuttered.

Victorian shutters
Keep the madwoman in the attic.
They fly open from time to time
Flames and smoke and screams release the pressure.

The dissonance?
The clarity!
The fight for survival, a schema attacked.

Interrobang me hard, baby
Then soft and gentle.
One is familiar, one terrifying.
The spike, the dagger, the twist
Roils and burns and cleanses
This tortured mind.

Can the dialectical nature of this mind synthesize dissonance?
Produce anything worth preserving?
Or is it…?!
Nonsense.
Absolute, astute nonsense.