The Front Man

Nearly a complete
Solar cycle
Since I felt the electric axe
Since stalking stages
In lecherous fashion
Since I was tossed
From the snake

Killing the evils
Of mankind
With sonic screams
Straddling perceptions
Between horn and halo
Walking tightropes above
Churning pits
While guilt applauds

Nights of ego fed glory
On the heels
Of crushing doubt
And self-defeat

Energy fused cocktails
Bountiful ashtrays
Back alley smoke circles
And sideways glances

Some days
Miss the carnival
Sometimes miss the freak
Making sense
In my reflection
Some moments miss
The drunken highs
And crowdless lows

The rest
Feels unimaginably real
To have escaped
Those searing rainbows
Sweat stung eyes
Fog machines
And painted backdrops