Ball fall crawl too far to fall the ball is in your court caught hard-fought to wrest the ball rest the ball at the end of the fall we crawl Saul becomes Paul bawl we bawl at the outset at the remaking standing tall answering the call; a trawl of what survives from the brawl and fall we sprawl brought bought in sport as we were taught to crawl as we ought to make it back from the fall wrought as we are from the haul brought in from the wall wall ‘I am Wall’ we call from nought from the fraught demon ‘blank Naught-at-all’ what sort of port will succour us at all exhort us back to the ball for out here in the glare and gall of the Red Death in the gleaming hall of the mall it is FUCKING COLD.
David Punter 