do not like this poem (am sharing it)

[Cris Tina]

delirium

your eyes are fixed to distorted illusions
that mask each angel with a devil's face:
a hostess dish is a mirror convoluted,
broken on stone tiles as jane is intent—
content to sit—
lost in dark chance
at the front door.

a technical jargon of rhetoric, euphemism,
appeals from the isolated, minds of narrow
destiny, an end—
the obscure sponsor of innocence
building with baseless goldbrick
—ideal in absence and pushing
disgraced, rushed irrelevance

[clown]

Thank you for conveying the words so meaningfully and for sharing a part of you.
clown:butterfly