The Fate of the Tramp


Blue as fire
Thanks garnered no pleasure
The Dance left all spent
Unable to sustain the steady
girth and mirth
Inching closer to the flame
indulgence eroded the soul
Until reputation proceeded any
real voice
Solace met loneliness, finally
as and while memories
continued into the expiration date
once the eyes fully closed
And respects were paid

I want to die


I want to die

Because I have
lost control of my
usual ways,
I don’t know
any other way to live
I am alive when
the gratification comes
from doing nothing
except being myself

I want to die

Because I have
lost control of my
usual ways,
I can no longer reach out
and touch someone
just like that
And, they let me
They let me do
whatever is done to them

I want to die

Because I have
lost control of my
usual ways,
Not even a stimulating
piece on a page
is hard enough to crack
That might be the best
way to go, anyway
Between the cracks

I want to die.

Hustle


                              
Something is dead
Is it me?
Was I easily read
Or too far from reality?
I sold drugs on Rodeo Drive
Instead of sex
Then gave reasons to stay alive
Until I cashed the checks
Too much flash
Would give me away
Obvious ash
And I turned to clay
Drop-off from the carport
Brooks Brothers tie
In-Demand sport
Until it was time to lie
Oh, the loneliness can be mean
When your best friend
Is painted on treasury green
On an upward trend
Something is dead
Make sure I just check my tie   
And not the mirrored eyes of red

At 7:15


Standing room only

A stage just for one

It’s true that only the lonely

Has a continuous run

 

Telling jokes and getting smiles

Even the laughs can be mean

Come nighttime are the trials

Lights go out at 7:15

 

Cheers and applause

Sometimes cut so deep

Break all the rules make your own laws

Pray to God your soul to keep

 

Like clockwork it’s a rut

Praying for fame and fortune like a teen

When the time has come, there’s but

Look and listen for your cue at 7:15

 

Is there someone

You’d like to pay homage to

Then again, there’s really no one

Who can do the things you do

 

At least you think it’s true

 

Give and receive

It all comes in green

The show must go on and you must deceive

Trying to sell your soul at 7:15