poem (fancy sports) Thinking of southern basketball teams You might call them squads. And elms. Taking horse trankquilizers, Rubbing out backs. Figuring secret desires perhaps. Presently it will all be cushioned, Rings of doves, big numbers on rayon Actually we know forward to baskets, Bumping into blue devils, cavaliers Flowering trees, major ones such as Catalpas with mockingbirds and snakes. Dancing is like basketball, Flying silk pants, underarms and thighs Raining and the other side is focused on c rying. Pigskin, oh touchdown. But is that the wrong game?
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