..and then there's the portal
through which I sometimes
hurtle,
the eye looking in on the
I looking out.

Put all your eggs in one basket
but
don't be surprised when you
end up with lots of chicks.

Quite neatly graffiti on the wall
I fall into,
Kilroy was here
but not before me.

So it goes to a penalty
a shoot out for
men like me
and
poetry is the referee,

I'm taking nine paces
tightening my braces
winding the engine for
once more around
the track.