kicked around the room from one end to another a mindless show of spinning like a hunter chasing rabbits a child its dreams as a runner on a winter morn out of breath wheezing rasping for air for a pause— from the cold chase gosh, what a wild goose
shoved around for fun serving bullies all along a plaything for the kids to get ‘em off the parents who pine for a quiet night
this way and that unclear what’s what blindly running a duty of the distraction that’s done, only ends when the game’s over or footballers tire