the ball
bounces
up and
down
like
the sun on
steroids.
Arnold said the
ebb and flow
of the
sea
spoke to him
of
human misery,
and his own
loss of
faith.
for me it’s this
ball
with its
relentless
movement.
once the sun
went round
with a
heart-rending sound
the stars went
there too
stuck in a
sphere
with
glue
now the sun
no longer
moves;
but we
do.
never resting
rarely still
popping many a
little pill
no values
now
left
we are…

bereft.
morality is
relative
and
therefore
meaningless
faith is
inside
instead of
world-wide.
this ball, like the
sun
hammers the dark
in
stamps down
on the
ground
with no
heavenly
sound
like some great
boot
from the sky

for me it’s
the last nail
in the
coffin of
the just