Monday, March 07, 2011

In The Out Door

Caught in a familiar place
Our hero dances resolute
somewhere between kitchen accessories
and the freshly butchered steaks
the voices sounding overhead
singing one come one all
but our hero isn't listening 
He just stands in the aisle and says

Every underdog is a heretic
Flying in the face
Of convention and establishment
demanding he come in last place
there's no time for course correction
when you're slamming into the shores
Breaking down your own beliefs
Waltzing in the out door

2 comments:

Pat Tillett said...

I've noticed a trend with your poems. You are really good at tying it all together with a killer last line! this one is no exception...

Rekha said...

Woah...Tim, your are good at this....
I can see the steaks for myself and not a pretty sight I tell you. :)