mr. congeniality

hey mr. congeniality

you're more than a picture

more than a show

your eyes follow me wherever i go

flirt with the lens 

and tell me a story

tell me a lie

tell me your dark eyes could hide 

the emptiness inside

too busy for a life of your own

kids, wife, a real home

so young, it's a pity, it's a shame

so high is the price of fame

so what good is fame and glory

when no one cares

when you tell your story

when you tell your lie

when your dark eyes cannot hide

the emptiness inside

tears are in fashion

that's what they say

get off the hook

and throw them away

just pillow talk

Don't bother continuing - it's just pillow talk baby!

C'est un chapeau

C'est un chapeau.

It takes a certain kind of person to rock a beret and I'm not one of them. Are you?

Stealing Words

Be careful where you spit your words, i'll steal them - especially if you're chewing on borrowed time.

nobodys

A nobody can be a somebody at a moment's notice,  just because everybody is always watching everything all the time and nobody's spared.

Oasis of the iUnderground

A collection of random souls

Bound for glass pastures in a city of steel

Sit on plastic thrones reading trashy novels

Pretty boys wearing center seamed mules

Another one enters and sits alone

I stare at his fancy shoes

His eyes glow, its so unreal

I get up to go

His lips say "stay", his black eyes scream "go away"

Hold on, hold on but not too tight

Close your eyes and you'll miss your flight

And stay forever without a sound

Prowling the oasis of the underground

With all the boys in fancy shoes

Always lost and never found

Never lost and always around

MIB on the train

Last week on the train, a man noisily plopped into the empty seat next to me. At first glance, he appeared to be a man in black. Actually he was. He wore a  black polo shirt and dressy slacks that cried out "Look at me I'm an Urbanista".  We started chatting about homemade yogurt, gardens, and life in general. He was a freelance interpreter for the deaf filling in for the summer at a call center in the City. During the past academic year, he assisted several Yale students and was planning to accompany one student to Oxford for his junior semester abroad. After a long stint at the Rochester Institute of Technology as an interpretor, he reluctantly moved to Seymour.  The highlight of his 12 years at RIT,  was a month-long trip to the Galapagos Islands assisting a graduate biology student. This really made me feel like shit. My life sucks big time. But then again, it could be much worse, I could be living in Seymour.