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A beam of a smile
i hold back, you
know
desperate to be scared
or scared to be desperate?
yet the beam of a smile from the parallel universe
comes and asks me
something
when I am tired I am most productive,
oui ou non?
now every letter i write
stained with the glass chance of reprimand
is in the hands of the
merciless
umpires.
should umpires be the victims?
why not the players themselves
the umpire rests in his bed
his doting servant of a wife
brings him pink lemonade
and two hours later
tomato soup with croutons.
seems like I took pity on the umpire
the beam of a smile whispers it’s a lie
but i knew that already
isn’t everything a lie every little bit of letters
and slang and words and sounds
transformed by a sea that rushed over
Poseidon never really forgave Odysseus.
the players are tired, their muscles ache
they dream of lustful encounters
with the babes from heaven
yet isn’t it a sin to be lustful in heaven?
a constant question on their minds.
can you sin at all in heaven?
and sometime in the 1930s
the beam of a smile brought the voices of the few to
show the way, like starlight
except
it took time
if the dividing lines for the earth were formed
where did the resistance come from
something held the earth together?
is it something archaeologists and palaeontologists look for?
have they found it yet?
you see
I would know
but I never
keep
up
with things.
an insult is always mixed with sweet poison
if you want to present the desired effect.
and if you care
then your game is over
and the players shall stalk home,
maybe they negotiated
for one side to lose.
so the beam of a smile came to greet me
and because I had nothing else to do
I greeted it back
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