Lacrosse, 4th Quarter

I dream of rigged lacrosse matches

won in 4th quarter

overtime

of chess games won with en passant

(what exactly is that?)

horses falling at the first hurdle

faced

indignation of defeat.

I dream of Martian landscapes

through sand-dunes of heartache

because as a child

at McDonalds

I was never allowed a milk shake,

while in my waking hours I have

absolved a multitude of sins for

lapsed nuns,

ringmasters and

troubadours.

I have filmed riots,

marathons

abortions.

I have seen things

pickled in jars

holding open heavy doors.

I have tried,

like an idiot

to commit all this to

memory.

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