Swing For The Cut

Somewhat lumbering
Not exactly your
No cotton candy

But mouth's full
Iron round
Fifteen-and-a-

Half metaphorical
Thing remembering
TV screen

Gloves bloated
Sort of diseased
Apples and

Huff, huff, puff
And no one
Goes down.

Rope passing out
Lurch wobble
Slight clutch

Second's reflection:
Child, future
Old man with

Cigar laughing--
All at risk
Baby! These

Dozen or so
Instants for
Tomorrow repeated,

Repeated, again
Repeated cerebral
File, and,

Head smashing
Sudden revelation
This cinder

Ephemeral moment
Square prophet:
"There are

People you
Will adore."
And, of course,

Images of
Knowns (other way), and
There's the

Trickle motherfucker!
You see that
Red crude

And what (you)
Remains, you swing
For the

Cut.

Copyright  Kemal Faruquee