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margoshka contemplates, ruminates... meditates on life, love, basketball, poetry, choice, and the lack thereof. |
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Thursday, August 01, 2002
Whiling away the day, in playing the game
Staying away from the fate of the lame
Tying the strings and untying the blame
Chasing a respite from the grime and the flame.
In spite of the bite and the light touch
Learning to notice it, but not ask for much.
Lightening quick punch, a warning, a hunch
To stay the fuck away, and eat a lighter lunch.
Cringing you notice the soft fuzzy glow
The warm flow, of the fragments down below,
And you seek to advance your hard stance
Spear with your lance, and whirl in a warrior dance.
But the petals so soft, they resist the assault
With a razor sharp edge, you get pricked, then you bolt.
This defense of fragility, a time-honored ingenuity
My personal culpability. won't you pour me a cup of tea?
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