A Bellow, a Curse, a Ghoultender, a Wingback
November 23, 2009, by Homme De Sept-Iles
the puck is magnet
(magic magenta in wharfed whoated white)
the ice slides, the doors open, nets lift and lines shift
- flak on placid.
the ball-flight is tensile cord, superimposition
geometric, grass is slick
turf won’t give,
quarterbacks chomp
and ends are boulders obliterate.
the grid
aligns maze marbles,
makes sense of seven,
geometric majesty of twelve.
the rink
reaps rideau rubber
flat staccato, billiard felt; black on white
(nor red on green).
the oblong bounce taciturn
fumbling
deknights oaf bodyguards
the disc
taps charred faces,
cracked bone melody,
carom cannon fun
the fans
the nation (canada)
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