Under The Jersey

 what kind of game is it when
 it's not
      heart's  caviar the open mouth
  valvoline oil spools of spill
      falls  black from blue
               lips
     the head
             tilt
                 wyvern dance
          under the spindle
        made in portugal
                or  maybe germany

             *           *

  it's a serious problem
 when a good shooter
      has a black heart

     sinistar
   most teams have one
        or there'd have been more ties

 we all knew what he was
 most of us
 some  might have been too young to know
  or understand
 but we knew and we
      coped
           or helped  as or all we could
 you see
        we couldn't jettison him     if
  we needed him.
                ships don't fly without engineers
                   we need them
      even the wrongly hungry ones


some years 
        there should be
         more than one cup
some years
          maybe none
     just white tweed over
         a hed
         and the battack
             banal
             rope
                 and grunted
                neck

           in your work

 it could be the way he swallows his food
    or doesn't hold the door
 how you know he's looking through the cubicle crack
      his beltway baritone.
    out here
            it's the ice
         how it cracks   under his grim
                                         torso

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