It all starts out fine and dandy, lefty living
off the grid, defaulted student loans on his mind,
to be or not to be -- the poor man's double bind --
but always some maiden with a pie there, giving,
in exchange for his pie-in-the-sky poetry,
and tragic Trojan tales, siren songs, avoided
crucifixions, secrets of the men's shed -- boy, did
they enjoy the pies, each other's moiety.
Then, you're old and solo, still carrying a lamp
in broad daylight for the couplet that got away,
sardonic, looking for honesty, some said 'fey,'
a curiosity in the marketplace. Camp.
Then the years toll the bells, treason fights the dying
light -- you explode in rage against all the lying.
