Sell Out

when you sell your soul
is it like sleeping
with bathsheba’s spirit?
you fornicate, weeping
with unbridled joy
at your fortune turn
gorgeous woman
she’ll make you learn
and drag you down roads
of greater excess
black broken alleys;
more women, more mess
til one day you wake
all wrinkled and sinking
heavy ‘round the waist
and spaced in your thinking
for there they all lie
torn, naked, and poor
sick with their feasting
yet still wanting more
of you and your years
the last days of spring,
the last daze of summer.
fall, winter, they bring
cold snow to your doorstep
a dark creeping frost
it’s then that you realize
how great is the cost;
you sold your soul
for flesh, adulation
the train is now gone
you’re stuck at the station
left far behind
30 years ahead
stubble, fat, baldness
dreams still in your head
when you sell your soul
is it just like dreaming
wide awake? If so
pinch hard and start screaming

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