Two loose yellow tongues flap me back
to that cul-de-sac of leather
***** bounced on a tarry hot blacktop.
The sweat came fast, our slapping palms
got slippery. We couldn't waste time
on excuses or fouls, just elbows
strategically placed, saggy smiles
and my canvas Chuck T's tearing
away from worn-down rubber soles.
Apr 16, 2010
Apr 16, 2010 at 9:23 AM UTC
Two loose yellow tongues flap me back
to that cul-de-sac of leather
***** bounced on a tarry hot blacktop.
The sweat came fast, our slapping palms
got slippery. We couldn't waste time
on excuses or fouls, just elbows
strategically placed, saggy smiles
and my canvas Chuck T's tearing
away from worn-down rubber soles.
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