It was a drama unfolding,
an energy of words on the
attack, like a fountain of
urchins catapulting in air
creating and irregular sky.
Abstract people shapes resembled
stick drawings waving hands
and arms like newspapers going
aloft; creatures of thought,
working the stream. There was
no refuge from the granite
of opinions, as the past
breaks over the heads in an
attempt to dismantle the future,
while hoping to gain the gift
of winning.
Roger Singer 