Tuesday, November 4, 2014


Get a load
of this killer hair—in the morning, Kate
in our over-

crowded mirror
that's still—a little 
humid probably from the night before;

a short little chestnut nest—swept 
up—for years now, I'd guess—just so I can 
see what's coming—and know

that although it's definitely
nothing too sporty—
I feel

it still suits me
well—in my chosen pursuit
as your ideal 

dodgeball rival—always

the next 
to last one standing—and always 
looking out for you.