Oh Messi, the words don’t like to heel;
they rear up like a coked-up Clydesdale
to stamp the tales of your devious feet.
It’s just that you’re a meñique Loki—
an algebra prodigy with filthy squaw hair,
a mischief wick, Pre-Cambrian fireworks
display, you’re like nighttime diving from
the Concussion Quarry. Messi, your tech is
so untextbook—I want to stun each cell
of the reel where your feet call the shots.
Faster than fast, surpassing speeding
catalysts of exponential acceleration:
Messi you are like ten ton cubes of pins,
toothpicks, and shattered plate glass
by Tara Donovan. Your currency in malicious
slide tackles, oodles of shin splits and cleats
in the muscle’s mignon. Maybe the growth
hormone Barcelona bought for you held
the genetic credit of petite assassin panthers
or the supersonic locura that drives grey-
hounds bonkers and makes them chase
lures in fashionable muzzles and a jersey
with a number that corresponds to a ticket.
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2 comments:
I think it's your best ode yet... when do they come out bundled in the hinchas???
I think it's your best ode yet... when do they come out bundled in the hinchas???
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