Game Over
when i caught the pass
to end the game
i knew perfection
just everything flowing
the ball floating
into my hands my legs
in synch heart pumping
the sidewalk goal line
a couple of yards of green grass
and brown earth away
then out onto the red brick street
i just kept going deep
in the perfect spiral moment
suspended in the early september
cleveland air when i was twelve
and the goodbye went unheard
in the adolescent roar
**
Terminal
I swear
what did they see
from the mass of stone
their pile of dreams?
People flitting like birds
in yellow cages
to clerkships of drudge
attending the capitalist bishoprics
hugging newspapers
eyes areel and glittering?
No Blakeian vision of heaven
just blinded to inherent hells
lurking in that silver kiss
leaving old Tom Johnson
weeping on the Square.
Light and transport for sale
even ecstasy in chains
grifters and cops on the take
spreading like a stain.
And we roll the dice again
as new curtains are rent
and the TV trucks
roll down Imperial avenues
pigeons rising in a gray cloud
streaked with blood.
