Sloppily written, but at least it's on
the page. Growing up is like a sportive
pursuit of change. Football. Otis Nixon
played baseball. My attempts were abortive:
So I picked up a guitar, a pen, plume,
and I got to designing my liquid
rhymes that were out of synch with the sea spume
as it bubbles in and out like inks, quid:
The wasteful hand of coin-throwing agents
besieges my head with shining metal
shards of words and paradise and pageants,
and I blink with renewed steel and mettle:
I have hoped in vain for so, so very long,
but there is flight in each and every song.
urbansonnets 