1473

SOCCER POEM FOR A HALFBACK

The sound of the highway
Outside Nashville. Airplanes.

Now try it without a soundtrack.

Just the endless motion,
Tracking the benchmarks
If you will. Cardiac
Playmaker, the night time's
The right time for
Staring at the horizon.

Watching it from the satellite
I'm a tennis ball where they're
Doing the lottery, I'm a plastic sack
In a toxic canyon. Forward
And back. Forward and back.

At the heart of every play,
And at the end of play,
Empty as a heart.