The delay between the bite and the taste
The eight and a haf minutes wait
For the sun's rays
To penetrate
The good Earth

Try and swat a fly with your hand
Your brain will put it in another place
Like some winged Lomachenko
In the space
Where your swipe was not

A similcast that is out of phase
You hear the goal
Before it's visually displayed
That brings dismay

And then of course
There is the worst
When you get kicked
In the *****
And time gets reversed
Then know you've got
A second or two
Before you cry.