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Technical Foul
By Cliff Lake
Cliff Lake
Technical Foul How did the signal go awry? Point the finger at the other guy! Responsibility need not apply, If confusion you amplify. Investigators on the prowl. Newspapers begin to howl. Don’t give in, throw in the towel, It was just a technical foul. Never mind why the wisemen scowl, Keep shoveling shit with a bear-sized trowel, Feel the tightening grip in your bowel, While you commit to your technical foul. Don’t worry, your job is fine, Just say it was all by design. Or that there are new guidelines, Or you were hacked by him sometime. It’s all less than what it seems: Who knows what F-18 means? Let them bitch and moan and growl, Simply a technical foul. Never mind why the wisemen scowl, Keep shoveling shit with a bear-sized trowel, Feel the tightening grip in your bowel, While you commit to your technical foul. Cliff Lake 3/27/2025 Copyright © Clifford Lake 202...
Small Satisfaction
By Cliff Lake
Cliff Lake
Small Satisfaction A whistle of wind, The dry rattle Of what leaves remain to sound, No requiem here. Here is nowhere, Even if it is somewhere, Perhaps it had a name once, But it is long unmapped since. Perhaps for the best: Its sole inhabitant, Past hope for salvage, Having long dismissed his own identity, Hoping for escape, To be trapped in the barren. He has no use for irony, Though he be gripped by it. He knows he will not survive here, Yet animal instinct drives him still, And finding water he drinks, And finding prey he eats, And finding shelter he sleeps, Then wanders more. It is a cleansing he thinks, A reduction to a purer form, If it is not a redemption. If he is found, Will he be known? If he is known, Will he be tried? If he is tried, Will it matter? He has already given himself to this waste, And it has given back, Though poorly. Yet it has been enough, And he will wander another day, ...

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