I take the snap from the center, fake to the right, fade back...
I've got protection. I've got a receiver open downfield...
What the hell is this? This isn't a football, it's a shoe, a man's
brown leather oxford. A cousin to a football maybe, the same
skin, but not the same, a thing made for the earth, not the air.
I realize that this is a world where anything is possible and I
understand, also, that one often has to make do with what one
has. I have eaten pancakes, for instance, with that clear corn
syrup on them because there was no maple syrup and they
weren't very good. Well, anyway, this is different. (My man
downfield is waving his arms.) One has certain responsibilities,
one has to make choices. This isn't right and I'm not going
to throw it.

by Louis Jenkins

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Comments (7)

The earth is crying sweet And scattering bright the air. Great thoughts expressed in an equally great song.
Prose, melodic, sweet, beautiful...
It is the story of love between the beauty and beauty and high imaginative poem.
This poem is good, but one thing I could not see was what kind of beauty the poet was talking about or beauty in general, beauty covering all kinds of beauty with a general word for it, Beauty. There may be some difficulty here for some readers when it comes to understand what kind of beauty this poem stnds for, other than that, everthing else is clear. The poet did in this try a good job, I do believe! Luis Estable
Nice piece of work. Thanks for sharing this poem with us. E.K.L.
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