The Art of the Insane- by Emily Fragos (from Little Savage)

   The Art of the Insane

The good doctor Prinzhorn says it was the patent 
that snapped me in two like a twig, 
that shattered my lovely personality, so to speak. 
I nod my heavy head. 

Have you seen my machine, perpetually moving, 
whirring, breathing? Made it out of cloth 
and mud and dirt and spit and excrement. 

Dear Diary: Dubuffet and Klee came last week 
to copy my faces. Eager to meet me, touching 
my creatures with their long, skinny fingers. 

They smeared my orange chalk, calculating 
what they could steal . . . And if anyone asks, 

I am taking my pig Rafi for a walk. 
With her hooves of long curls like a little girl's 
mop, or Persian slippers, excellent for flying,

we are wind gone. We are kingdom come.