Les plus lus ▸
Dave Bonta
I lie till noon
and dine till nine at night
examining the miscarriage
of satisfaction
rain all afternoon
I put things
in my hat
I am playing ball, you see.
Throw it down, it bounces up
Throw it up, it comes down
Throw it on to the wall
Hey! it comes right back to me.
Tired or bored playing ball
I fling it on the floor
Despondent, it rolls to a corner.
I slump down on a chair
Sit watching the ball.
It looks back at me, sullen.
Glowing red, it takes the shape
Of my heart
Shouts why I wouldn't play ball
With life.