The Architect
Drained and deranged,
I dreamed I could build beauty.
Blueprinted, diagrammed
Just a god in a cage.
I mapped out the gestures
And the wisecracks,
And the manners,
But science and splendor don’t mix.
During construction, I let a beam drop,
Seems my pride came along,
Lost myself in the jester’s eyes
Of a strange passer-by.
Strewn are sketches of men who
Enliven the insomniac quiet,
But mine is the soul and the silence
That softens the jagged dusk.
Maybe I once wished on watches
For a learned life of lust,
But all I needed was a wistful ear
And a vagabond’s forgiveness.
So I’ll meticulously shred
These plans to staggered squares
Flaunt the mosaic failure in the window
Like a flag, surrender stained in every crevice.
This is cheating on perfection.
This is falling away with faith.
All for the smile
Of a strange passer-by.