the run down in poetry

You who chase bliss, I can understand you.
You who chase power, I can reason with you at least sometimes.
You who chase compassionate acts, I try to be with you,
I try to be like you, I try to be of you and when I’m
at my best maybe even I am you, I hope.
You who chase normal, you’re mad.
I can’t understand a life devoted
to consensus and outward appearances.
Holy Christ, what a waste of this mayfly’s life.
Normal is the worst thing there ever have been to be.
For God’s sake, double-check, make sure you’re not chasing it.
And if you are, wake up.
Wake up and run the other way.