It's a light film, a beauty clean; white-
Curtain...All for bubbling, champagne!
Pretty sight; and hard to ignore,
Drawing-in-line; and rounding-up-
This small, spheric,
Not to be touch; by hands, not even-
For the clerics;
Nor rain, wind-guts, soak-terrain,
Cold or hot: can't stop,
These human-beings; running all-
Over, square-field...Do they feel?
What drives them; even to bleed,
Crazy! I'm going to-
Sleep! My eyes, went obscured,
Just a smear dim,
To percieved, this spheric in motion,
Too quick and confuse,
Another half-time; still, cold and damp,
But, like I said; I'm going to bed,
Allow my eyes-brow; I know how.
By: Juli Monat
Copyright (c) 2013