Bottom Wakes

Bottom. I have had a dream, past the wit of man to
say what dream it was: man is but an ass, if he go
about to expound this dream.
--Midsummer Night's Dream, IV.i. Wm. Shakespeare

so here I sit:
under a tattered umbrella-- no,
it must be the sails of a windmill
which, as all men know, means madness.
Poor Bottom, first a fool, then mad,
preyed on, like spring lambs by eagles,
by visions no sane man would harbor.

But I would not trade this donkey head
for common wisdom, weights and measures,
the petty daily round of common life.
I'll eat grass like Nebuchadnezzar--
mad, but still a king. I'll go on all fours,
Bottom, but still a donkey. Into the arms
of spinning windmills, Sancho, ride me!

--image courtesy of oncle Jim via Read Write Poem

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