the morning slips under a milk spill on blue carpet sky a sun-cloud cocktail of strange taste and feeling a dim world where shadows brighten, this dusk-daylight when the nocturnal open an eye and the diurnal let an eyelid slip stuck in this muted interface the world is gray, quiet and I’m grounded as the hours pass inside a blanket-covered mirror ooooh but then the sun bursts forth some things run and hide others look up at the sky I am suddenly cleared for takeof

it should be someone not so enamored with her fat yellow smile because in person, they’d be crushed by her looks a dusty colorless face, so pock-marked with boulders rocks and sharp bony ridges even a facelift wouldn’t help I do know exactly where I’d sit to write – where the scalding heat and bitter cold meet at the edge of a moon’s new day with the universe of stars held by one eye, the peak of the sun captured by the other and the message would have to be well bey

six teams eight 5th-graders each two or three with talent the rest slow, shy, uncoordinated or hating to be there as captain, I played every kid in every game, mixing in the good ones with the non-athletic other teams used their best players every minute of the game, ignoring their feeble teammates, where we played as a team the weak and strong together everyone to the best of their ability and something amazing happened we won the basketball title that year I did