There isn’t
quite a rhyme
or rhythm to it
but it speaks the tongue
of the soul
spitting out “ha ha” images
of liquid prose
in spurts of volcanic lava
and consciousness rising
as words on a page
begin a mental dance
the challenge is issued
and the man steps up
to the plate—
take a swing at the ball
the electricity of word
speech elevating soul
currents of rapid fire
invective
it invades
permeates the inside
perplexes and amuses
yes another trip
to the Tropic of Capricorn
has warmed the heart
and fired the soul
until what you get is
a quintessence
and a few words left spoken
and many more unspoken
12-27-95