I’m told that all i’ve got is the inside out
where my forehand has greatest penetration
I’m told i have poor footwork
slow plodding steps
feet that plant too early
so the coiled seed of my body unfurls at the wrong place
at the wrong time
and i drive off my right foot
rather than my left
which completes the imbalance of my nomadic architecture
its not that the ball disobeys me
its that it can’t understand me
the force of my desire dissolves in the transfer
what’s left is flighty and disoriented
No comments:
Post a Comment