Hard to Kill Dream
Tell me I’m the only one, never mind, don’t bother, just sign my release papers and look away and I’ll be gone, hopping down the bunny trail, dialing M for murder– well, punching it in on my key pad then.
Old metaphors die hard. Words vanish when the power fails. Demons fan the night air with flapping wings and radioactive longings, and here comes the judge with his worn-out pronouncements.
I won’t come out to play. I won’t dip into the wishing well and rip off the pennies, tarnished green and unspendable. I’ll stay right here on this ledge and glare down like a gargoyle at passersby. I won’t crack a smile for the audience in some far-away stadium. I won’t be a chump for a pretty girl. I’ll hang tight til the verdict’s in, and then I’ll vanish like a hard to kill dream.
