1.24.2008

Let the game begin

Sun baked or freeze dried
Three chances in a whirlwind
Diamond cutouts of a truth
Hidden in shade and uniformity

Jarred and jumbled bass, I understand
High and low intensities from in front
Flailing limbs I'll never get
somehow they all do

White lines solidifying dirty green
memories Childhood and stand tall
Individual isolation in a crowd
Pig parts and shoes in bread
Fizz topped with a cap

Falling with control, such clumsy grace
Love, hate, pride, certain failure
Let the game begin

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Keep up the good work.