Iron Galaxy Chaser

Stupid fuck, stupid fuck, stupid, fuck. Stupid. Fuck.

How the hell did you fall for that.  Twice.  I know.

250 miles to not get kissed?  I know.

250 miles to get fucked?  I know!

250 miles to get what?  I know!!

"A wise man puts his filings in a bin.
a foolish man poops gold plated license plates."

Said no one ever.  Shut the fuck up.  Jesus Christ.

Yes, invoking capital letters because I hate you that much.

If the galaxy was made of iron
and a person had enough supplies in tow
the nearest star would be
a trail hike several a many afternoon
tire kicking sometimes rock skipping
tits out shoes off back on
hand in pocket eyebrow adjusting
wedgie undoing phone checking
earring adjusted fingertipping stroll.

32 Bit

I always liked Knuckles more than Sonic.

Always Birdo before Bowser, by a hair.
Blame it on N64 Tennis and
my nem that always took it
a shade too seriously.

Sympathy for a goomba and

travesty for a koopa and

I always wanted to see a bird's eye of F-Zero.

He had two tails, come on!  

No?  That's fine.  Sometimes when I cannot keep

my mouth shut I recite lines
from Arkanoid and remember
blips of Asteroids and think about
how much fun that job would be.  Make a T.V.show

about that I am

halfway in the door and halfway out.  Don't do that.
You'll get tanked one script in.

But seriously.  Top Gear.  First edition.  I still have nightmares.

Baseball 9

I took the hitch out of my swing.  It's a good thing.  Tearing the spacers out of the gaps from point A to point B.  Idea, question mark, profit.  Learning what the make up of a question mark is

cracks a slit melon smile.  Could it really have been that simple all along?  A day to learn.  A wife time to master, I've heard it said.  Fluid all day.  Speed all day.  Power all day.

When you put it together and make it look smart and easy.  Nature, nature.  Temper, temper.  Give it some time, hon'.  Be teachable.  That ball will sail off the barrel with some back spin

and carry clear out to the damn river and the Earth will hug your insides tight and pull you down to keep you from flying into outer space behind it and the pitcher will want to kiss you.  And fume instead.

Baseball 8

Continuous and strict
modification.

I've been working on my swing.

As much about the clock
as movement.  As much about the mind as
where nerves meet their ends
in muscle and flow.

Bruce Lee would've been a short stop.