The Diachronic Barber Pole Observations of a Recovering Hockey Exile

Wearing The Game

March 4, 2011, by Homme de Sept-Îles 


                 wizened like rot sesta stick
                     hologram like
                                         war

                           unadorned  ordained

 for those who hold
      that long rubbery grip-all
             stretched across  a  city
  those that feel its   tongue battery clench

they hate him
              who runs free unallowed
                  unknoignted
             free from gable from carp
               the ruby cackle
                the jade blade
                 the diamond laugh
                   the emerald dust






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