Forces

You’re laying in a field of clover

my nerves are pooling 

down in my heels 

gravity is a love force 

slow me down 

draw me near 

arrange the shadow 

at an angle on my cheek

I am aligning gaps in the boundary waters 

finding my way back to you 

minding the clovers 

giving way under my heavy feet

Bad Boyz

 

Winning is embarrassing
the off chance of winning
the magic of the spheres
for me, in me, mine,
sorry your sword is
rusted, it wasn't me 
how could I, 
I don't even 
know how to
fake humility it's
impossible to know what
that is when winning
is arbitrary
an iron blanket,
a hive mind,
all flopped across
rolling hills,
why are sports great,
I couldn't care less about
who plays sports how can
you learn anything about
solidarity when winning
makes no sense and 
losing is absolutely nothing,
nothing to
apologise for.