Beetlebung and Kettlehole--April Poems

The Game of Squash

Don’t turn away from me.
This game’s in play,
gathering us and racquets,
all carbon-based,
so very human.

I don’t know if I can bear it
your service tight, inside four walls,
my ultrasound in quarks and photons
and us, cramped, side by side,
with your strained smile.

My revulsion ripples before your kill,
and smashing at the front wall,
ball bounces at reverse angle below the out line.
All scar tissue. No clouds drift inside,
just a healing slash backing to a boast…

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Squash terms used: Service, front wall, bounce, reverse angle, out line, boast, kill .