the neon cross of indignity and self-righteousness burns at my back

who align themselves amongst the fitting contours of my face

(and because i couldn't see forever, i only saw the light)

people so clear to reject me before they even know me

spit me out because of the taste i leave on the top of their mouths

chalky, a halfbreed

kind of all i ever heard

from the humming and sound of elevator music couldn't compete

with the sight of her face, smiling at the freckled well-adjusted boy

who made me sick

with envy with anger with disgust

slaughered like french fries down in grease

slaughtered like men bowing down before their godfearing priest

and the gods! the gods of

self-indulgence

paper cups

half-smiles

loneliness in all places, a food court!

where the king and queen sit motionless and stare

oh it's truly a tragic kingdom, this mankind

for as much time has passed, they do not care

darkness overruns the land of smooth ice

blathing in grease and faces of the workers who i'll never see again

as i walk in and out, an extra in a hollywood film

with a sad song just for me to round out the atmosphere

and even as i try, try as i may, i cannot hear

struggling for the inevitable that cloaks down and all around

me, bathed in the mirage of signs that glow not-so-gently

linoleum that could care less

watching those who'd never let me in

the mainframe has shunned me

a virus for its own protection

and even though i may smile and laugh

i'm not a part of your prized china collection

feeling like an outsider, sitting in your costumed chair of well-swallowed

planned-out, despair.

i shuffle off, alone, as always & again.