cues

..

sometimes they spark
if you hit them just right,
let them bump and grind,
find their way along felt.

we talk and chalk
a few things up
to strong drinks
and weakness,

the way the tables
have turned, the way
we’ve learned each other’s
English, angles, calls.

i tuck the one
ball in to a pocket,
a flash of color
in all this dark.

the black one’s got
an infinity sign side
-ways, and a way of
rolling on ’til the end,

……and you, my friend
……………are the shark.

 

..
Prompted by Poetic Asides. 

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