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Michael McGuire
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Picture Perfect Misfit
So you just swallow your drink,
Call it a cure for this highway,
Grinding gears of misery; think,
The future could happen today.
And your faith hits the ground with a thud,
The red of her lips looks just like blood,
The sugar coated rain bleeds the flood,
Your ego's horse is a stud.
Close your eyes and count the bankers,
The numbers of speech divide the stutter,
Spilled by evening's oil tankers,
The engine of night; hear it sputter.
Her high heels make a clicking show ghost,
Your tongue makes a bane of its boast,
Time parades from calendar to coast,
Heavens are mapped from the hype to the host.
It must be further out than it is in,
Traveling with Cain and his pocket sin,
Feed these fundamental beliefs with supplemental fantasies,
To set the bait in the mousetrap of vanities, Contort the rage into an eleventh hour joke,
Put a fix on that leak till it's as good as broke,
Like a lawyer defending a criminal,
The broken bone of a handshake is seminal,
But it's about as tangible as an atom in a cannonball,
The logic of banging your head against a wall,
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So you feel so at home with this alien ache, Reality dialed up in degrees of sanction-fake,
You betray your faith in yourself and masturbate, Put the blame on that bitch time for making you wait,
With the moon in your voice and the stars in your vocabulary,
You stumble into focus searching for sanctuary.
It's easy to hide a pain that doesn't really hurt, Glass is breakable; but why bother; you can see right thru it,
With all the virtuosity it takes to button your shirt, You pretend that you didn't know how to undo it.
Let darkness define your losses,
Words expressed; fuel the pollution,
Proud martyrs bare their crosses,
Gods of problem and solution.
A virgin of your lust; she goes unknown,
To be a bride to the church of the bone,
Her image is just the myth of a loan,
Her voice rumored current of the phone.
Sunsets and alarm clock rising,
Limp to the stand with an erection,
The laughs and the jibes; not surprising,
It's just the blood of beauty's affection.
The colors of a picture perfect misfit,
All that's lost he's determined to find it,
He seeks justice; determined to blind it,
Though the contract of fate he's already signed it.
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