Oster gears vibrate
against baby powdered napes.
Curled locks sweep away.
An online commonplace book
Earth tone table cloths
Naked trees, light family feuds
Uncork the cheap wine.
Matchstick legs ignite
a Parisian son. Midfield
light illuminates.
Blaise Matuidi is my favorite midfielder to watch right now.
He doesn’t pirouette, or flash a thousand step-overs. You won’t see a croqueta, or metronome passing.
But his tackles, endless running, headers, and enthusasim for football gives an aging amateur midfielder an example to aspire to.
Everyone’s asleep.
Except my laptop and I.
Control-Alt-Delete.
Thunder hangs over,
drinking chilled beers with lightning.
Candle wicks burn out.
Pastor decipher,
an ancient message. Listen.
Truth and lies creep through.
Summer’s neighbor knocks.
Pennant races, Charlie Brown.
Flannel season glows.
Enemies of envy,
tighten your grip.
Hold your tongue.
Don’t let it slip.
Wisps of childhood,
skip through palmetto bushes.
Memories flicker.