Drifting off to the aquatic, gurgling sounds of the buzzing dishwasher,

there is a lot to unpack,,,,

a lot to remember,,,,

Ignoring the wet floor signs,

I’m talking, walking right by it,, without a thought.

I’m taller than this, bigger than that.

Strung up with moderation, worried that you wont understand the sport,

and hung up on dreams,,,,

Cant understand the sport , or even see the ball clearly .

cant understand why the dreams come and go,

cant understand why you’d start a sentence that way.

Despite the volume and the density of the playbook, and not being able to see the ball clearly.

Despite not being able to reach the smoke detector that desperately needs batteries,

despite having never being able to detect carbon monoxide in the first place,

You choose how you descend , and in which fashion,

its always all about the volume ,,,,,,

or the ball or your feet,

or the dead and dying batteries

or the tasteless, odorless winter,

either way,,,,