1064

THE BLACK STRIPES

A cloud of dust
Puffs from the adidas
That puts the soccerball
Up in the trees.

The visual field
Wants me to run with a stick
Or turn my head
Form the black iron,
But it's my adventure
And I don't feel
The terrier as much
As the bag with two teas
Damp on the seam.

I feel the sleep
Welling up in the barber chair.
In the swamp
The buildings are low.