and in the shop…
“Under the Blue”
Mimosa Books / CreateSpace IPP;
I always, whatever the game,
Carried my world, all of it, in a flight bag,
Ready for whatever,
Alone with the game,
The game’s a high-risk sport, a crazy dash,
A hand of cards, a freefall jump, a shot
Through war-skies, strobing probes, each killing slash
All white, so white, our screaming wings white-hot
Or ice-cold black, or gone, each hop or skip
Or jump a dance of chance, a throw, a pot.
The path careers and swings towards a crash
That’s set. We both know this I think, but not
The timing, nor the peace or pain. The hash
God makes we make – yes, we are God; we got
Our wings at birth, but no flight plan. We flip
A card, pass through some doors, to fly or rot.
And knowing what we don’t want helps us choose.
The game’s in the bag, my love, we just can’t lose.
My whole game, my whole bag,
The ecstatic, terrifying flight itself,
Is wholly you –
My whole crazy world