I was punching wa-a-a-y above my weight and knew it.
Twice-once, chink-chink - his pearl foury
against a sorry-assed whispy pride-of-my-collection whatever-the-fuck-it-was.

I regretted it the moment we exchanged contracts.

Hold on, though! Luck was on my side - I hit him once,
dropsies, boom, right on the button.

But we both knew it couldn't last.

He rolled like a dream, into a drain, I was onto a loser,
and then the lunch bell went.

I picked at my ham roll, avoiding his stare -
I'd wait it out till afternoon class -
but damn, no matter where I sat the cross-eyed fucker had my number.

And five minutes before lunch ended
he had my pride and joy in his pocket.
( nightbuffalo needs more duct tape, Mon 25 Jul 2011, 21:52, 2 replies)

I had that
but the leg fell off
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Tue 26 Jul 2011, 2:55, closed)

Poetry on b3ta ?
Cold rainy playground
The pockmarked asphalt dojo
Glass spheres strike. Victory!
( DukeEuphoria Comes highly reccomended, Tue 26 Jul 2011, 10:29, closed)