TTPD
|
In
|
Summation
|
At
|
this
|
hearing
|
I
|
stand
|
before
|
my
|
fellow
|
members
|
of
|
The
|
Tortured
|
Poets
|
Department
|
With
|
a
|
summary
|
of
|
my
|
findings
|
A
|
debrief,
|
a
|
detailed
|
rewinding
|
For
|
the
|
purpose
|
of
|
warning
|
For
|
the
|
sake
|
of
|
reminding
|
As
|
you
|
might
|
all
|
unfortunately
|
recall
|
I
|
had
|
been
|
struck
|
|
TTPD
|
with
|
a
|
case
|
of
|
a
|
restricted
|
humanity
|
Which
|
explains
|
my
|
plea
|
here
|
today
|
of
|
temporary
|
insanity
|
You
|
see,
|
the
|
pendulum
|
swings
|
Oh,
|
the
|
chaos
|
it
|
brings
|
Leads
|
the
|
caged
|
beast
|
to
|
do
|
the
|
most
|
curious
|
things
|
Lovers
|
spend
|
years
|
denying
|
what's
|
ill
|
fated
|
Resentment
|
rotting
|
away
|
galaxies
|
|
TTPD
|
we
|
created
|
Stars
|
placed
|
and
|
glued
|
meticulously
|
by
|
hand
|
next
|
to
|
the
|
ceiling
|
fan
|
Tried
|
wishing
|
on
|
comets
|
Tried
|
dimming
|
the
|
shine
|
Tried
|
to
|
orbit
|
his
|
planet
|
Some
|
stars
|
never
|
align
|
And
|
in
|
one
|
conversation,
|
I
|
tore
|
down
|
the
|
whole
|
sky
|
Spring
|
sprung
|
forth
|
with
|
dazzling
|
freedom
|
|
TTPD
|
hues
|
Then
|
a
|
crash
|
from
|
the
|
skylight
|
bursting
|
through
|
Something
|
old,
|
someone
|
hallowed,
|
who
|
told
|
me
|
he
|
could
|
be
|
brand
|
new
|
And
|
so
|
I
|
was
|
out
|
of
|
the
|
oven
|
and
|
into
|
the
|
microwave
|
Out
|
of
|
the
|
slammer
|
and
|
into
|
a
|
tidal
|
wave
|
How
|
gallant
|
to
|
save
|
the
|
|
TTPD
|
empress
|
from
|
her
|
gilded
|
tower
|
Swinging
|
a
|
sword
|
he
|
could
|
barely
|
lift
|
But
|
loneliness
|
struck
|
at
|
that
|
fateful
|
hour
|
Low
|
hanging
|
fruit
|
on
|
his
|
wine
|
stained
|
lips
|
He
|
never
|
even
|
scratched
|
the
|
surface
|
of
|
me
|
None
|
of
|
them
|
did
|
"In
|
summation,
|
it
|
was
|
not
|
a
|
love
|
|
TTPD
|
affair!"
|
I
|
screamed
|
while
|
bringing
|
my
|
fists
|
to
|
my
|
coffee
|
ringed
|
desk
|
It
|
was
|
a
|
mutual
|
manic
|
phase
|
It
|
was
|
self
|
harm
|
It
|
was
|
house
|
and
|
then
|
cardiac
|
arrest
|
A
|
smirk
|
creeps
|
onto
|
this
|
poet's
|
face
|
Because
|
it's
|
the
|
worst
|
men
|
that
|
I
|
write
|
best
|
And
|
|
TTPD
|
so
|
I
|
enter
|
into
|
evidence
|
My
|
tarnished
|
coat
|
of
|
arms
|
My
|
muses,
|
acquired
|
like
|
bruises
|
My
|
talismans
|
and
|
charms
|
The
|
tick,
|
tick,
|
tick
|
of
|
love
|
bombs
|
My
|
veins
|
of
|
pitch
|
black
|
ink
|
All's
|
fair
|
in
|
love
|
and
|
poetry
|
Sincerely,
|
The
|
Chairman
|
of
|
The
|
Tortured
|
Poets
|
Department
|
|