In the ecstatic madness
sits a different kind of bliss
so untethered that you drift
far from the familiar.

There is no cord unwinding
to snap you into place,
and you may float into
and out of 
your original face.

And when one stands screaming,
unwilling to be shooshed -
naked as a J-bird -
immune to being rushed,
you may find a freedom
that would terrify the rest:
the homeless kind of freedom
of the sanity dispossessed.