Ill-fated Jonah

Your persona burns blue
the way a driftwood fire ravages sea salt
the real you is the character untrue
shift the blame for in others you find the fault
you are everything entirely perfect
or so you thought-you are but a ghost, pale, and hollow
what you touch you infect
and I find your being hard to swallow
no matter how sweet your song
no matter how beautiful your voice
you are wrong, oh so wrong

everything you are is pressed between
the pages of Jay Mcinerney’s imperfect city
Bright lights , wild nights, nicotine and caffeine
you are not worth a single ounce of pity
John Fowler gave you a clever name:
Nicholas Urfe suits your character too
bored, depressed, disillusioned, and overwhelmed by shame
and I bid the pathetic you, adieu
Oaths in marriage will not kill your decadent persona,
for sake of a rhyme I’ll call you the ill-fated Jonah…

Copyright © 2010 L.Warren

(inspired by the a musician who use to play women better than his instruments...)