we'd fire automatics
against painted grey skies
and hold on to what we cherish
in 20 item inventories
we'd race the grand prix on ducati's
against time
and the cruel controller
with broken buttons

you'd always lose but
continued to play
until the very end
of the race over
the checkerboard
-finish-line-

looks like you got first place this time
and i'm still trailing in the dirt
and the dust
you've left

behind