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Sport 41: 2013
Unclear Defense
Unclear Defense
Under the tree his biro on lined paper
scratched like a beard.
He was about to draw the hanged man
I would covet and lose forever.
He was about to become as slow and stupid as he would ever be,
his body beside me on the grass
as gauche as a teenage drinker.
We were never lovers though
I saw the inside of his mind shape itself—
the blunt, blue gawp of his thought
no more or less hospitable
than any other home I have stopped in.