Disposable Hero (6/29/19)

He loved this song
The way the 2nd riff galloped
The dynamics of the whole band falling out
as the riff was introduced
Then the madness of the thrashy 3rd riff
just before it all turned over on itself
folding and twisting as it fell back lockstep
into the ride of the damned  
Anger
Desperation
Scolding
Pleading

He took a hit off of his cigarette
(still Camels after all these years)
and reached for the sweaty bottle
He propped his scuffed black boot onto the edge of the coffee table
eyeing with some arrested admiration
the hole in the right knee of his jeans
the leather wristband
as he began to knock back
Bukowski style
the last of his fourth
His old black shirt
worn & thin
caught some of it down the chest
where an old burn hole rested
at the sharp edge of the C
He ran his other hand through the thinning top
of his still shoulder blade length hair
and thought about how far he had not really come
Still in the old neighborhood
Still pulling long hours at unskilled jobs
But he smiled and just then
the phone rang
The thought of her long blonde hair and bullet belt
pulled him safely away
from any possible existential crisis
Besides
those who measured the journey
by some prescribed sense of upward mobility
Trudging that path
seeking the glory trend  
were the true cowards
He sat nobly upon his torn throne.

The chorus repeated
YOU WILL DO
WHAT I SAY
WHEN I SAY  
Never  
he whispered to himself
as he stood up to grab another