cant do it like my boy
Posted to Action Poetry
by onemoreman on 2003-06-20 16:23:00
he was the last one across the finish line
45:46...47...48...
he was between 60-65
he won in his division
(the only one)
they should have gave him a more than a t-shirt
and a plastic meddle, that's for shure
he was bent over a little, shirtless
each time his foot hit the ground
the thin film of flesh that covered his musscles
sort of shaked, no fat, so you could see
each break in his muscle, each line, tendon
his skin was like leather and tight, a few wrinkles but dark and healthy,
(he made me glad to be human)
he had no hair on his head
so his dome reflected the sun
could have been a halo
a gift from applo or nike
who must have been in the crowd
that day blessing this old dude
(and giving him a tast
of immortality)
damn what a world
