Bad Boy Glamour


Back in the day when brainblood ran black,
drained past thoughtfully lodged bullet frags,
escaped the scalp, soaked deep into earth's carpet
while some fella simply walked away,
believing his justice just, and unafraid to say so,
even then... angels named names.
There were no good old days of bad,
no such thing as honor among anyone,
for Eve had the monopoly on greed
and Adam, her crooked mouthpiece;
all the rest are bumbling children,
would-be front men for these
gangsters of corruption.
The glamour-gloss of evil is but the shiny slick,
hardened scum of flavored sin;
is not real,
yet, from distances reflects God's sun
as Coronado's City of Gold;
beckons the tourists.

Copyright (c) 2006 Gary Brown