I've always struggled
with the concept of appropriate

Forever straining the fabric
of social conventions

I am harmless though

but I realize

my flights from propriety  
make friends and family cringe

Like a maladjusted puzzle piece
forever battling to fit in
to somehow pass for normal

People call me a character

as they snicker and chatter

about my latest indiscretion

I smile like fools do

but it bothers me

more than they know

Why do I always

have to be

out

          of

sync?

All the pilgrims gather
for their weak *** Sunday blather

as stained glass saints bear witness
to prayers recited by rote
by the zombie congregation
awash in traditional hypocrisies

Sinners seeking to con their way
into happily ever after eternity

As if salvation can be bought
by slipping some coin
into the collection plate

You best take those homilies
and hymns you sing off key
a tad more seriously

Absorb those ancient words to heart

and begin to walk

the righteous walk

Amen

I am today

not who I was yesterday

Nor am I now

who I shall be tomorrow

Is this evolution or erosion?

The natural ebb and flow
of the currents of time

Or perhaps change
is nothing more
than a state of mind?

I don't  know  

Who's to say?

Tis all a crap shoot anyway

Keep the change

Deep within this blaring intersection
hangs a man from a blood drenched cross

Looking down on the pilgrims below
as they scurry madly to and fro

What was once
a tourist curiosity show
now a trivia question nobody knows

Part of the 24/7 scenery unseen

Melded into the mosaic of a society lost

Just another annoying city obstacle
we step over and around

As we mutter about urban clutter

Nobody bothers to take the time
to see humanity's greatest crime

Not one soul will be found
to help this wounded soul down

A slice of 21st Century selfishness

The new original sin

This much I know

Twas a night of epic cheer

Though it turned to blur

sometime between

hello and good bye  

So here I lie

in a strange bed

Unclear how I got here

or what I did

and with whom

Singular or plural

Very hard to say

Next move

Do I sneak out silently
or snuggle
with the mystery lump
laying next to me?

Is this the end
or a romance beginning?

What was her name again?

Before I became
the shadow I am today

I use to care deeply

Filled with empowerment

Believed that I mattered

People cared what I had to say

but the world

had it's own agenda

Made me feel irrelevant

Now I chirp irreverent

A bitter mockingbird

hopping around

with clipped wings

The chances

of you and I
getting out
of this party
with our virtue still alive
is virtually an impossibility

The fragility
of the Sunday school morality
drilled into our fair heads
before we were ever acquainted
with physical temptation

As the years accumulate

and the implanted guilt dissipates

we realize finally

the futility

of constantly restraining

our natural urges