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