prisoned inside my private world

i watch dust devils dash and swirl

and lift the skirt of a nubile girl

i hear the wind raping the trees

i see the bruised and battered leaves

come crumbling down around her knees

i kid myself that i’m not mad

i’m not bitter, i’m not sad

that i don’t shed tears for love unknown

and my foolish fears haven’t left me ‘lone

that i still walk the path between the stars

and i still catch fireflies in jars

but i no longer seek the reason why

i giggle when i hear grown men cry

i’ve never lived, so i’ll never die

and dying is such a tired cliche

done to death and every day

is done again like dogs at play

i once knew rules and a thing called sin

i pattered prayers and mouthed amen

my faith was furious, but a trifle thin

i grew tired of seeking a savior to blame

i forgave myself, learned to live with my shame

found water or wine gurgles down the same drain

there is nothing left for any of us

a long ride to the grave in a short black bus

and all of our fuming and all of our fuss

cannot cajole the driver to changing his route

or opening the back and letting us out

so it’s best not to whimper, best not to pout

i look out the window over my kitchen sink

hidden in shadow, with coffee to drink

watching a young girl and trying to think

why a flash of white panties once felt like a fire

what it meant to be eaten, consumed by desire

but my dragon is flagging, too quickly i tire

i watch her walk by and she doesn’t see me

just as well since my lusting’s now limp apathy

and the pride of my loins can do nothing but pee

surely that is life’s lesson that i somehow had lost

you pay for your pleasures without knowing the cost

and the coin that you pay with is one you once tossed

night things