Like the ball that rolls.

This time of the summer when the rains are home

I sit awkwardly with my lap dog,

he is a curious one just like

his folks-

What's that sound? What's that fuss?

 What does it mean?

Why do they all run?

This is fun. 

My dog seems happy. Perhaps, he senses

comradeship in play.He senses comrades

in players. I deny him play.

My city denies him the green grass. So he

jumps between sofas and beds, chasing

tennis balls, that weren't meant for him.

The signal ricochets between layers of the

atmoshpere, this live television thing is

history too, you know,

seconds lost in moments

of satellite transit.

This time of the summer when rains are home,

an emaciated child with magic feet sits

in his little home by the slum, singing

prayers to Jesus. One day he will get on that zeppelin,

but today mother is  sick. There's carnivale for his

kind. It has come to the town.

He seems happy today. There's a big match in

the Maracana. The rains keep on falling down,

and in the magical Americas sometimes they even

go up, only if you want it to.  

He wants to play. He is ready.

The city gives him dirty mottled

streets.  So he scuttles along- and chases chickens,

and kicks the ball wherever he wants it to land.

Do they deny him?

Between football matches and effeminate

ginger talks, inebriations occur.

Here in my head,

its three fold.

(Don't pity classifications,

how will you love otherwise?)

The first one is like the Mexican wave when

alternating parts of the brain rise and fall

between highs and lows.

The second one is like the dribble that conquers

any defense- like an unguent of love,

it soothes the heart.

Like the audience that makes the game,

the third one is this delirium that make

me scribble puny words on rainy

days.

So

when the footballers have gone home,

when some dreams have broken and

some dreams have come true,

when some prayers have been answered,

when I had time to run across a green

field into the arms of your

imagination-

sometimes playing ball,

sometimes chasing it,

just like the life that we so wanted,

please don't deny

us.