Corner and Curb
poetic scribble by Bob Axell 2009


It spins like a floppy
Disc in my drive
It flops like a choppy
Sting in my side

It rings when I drop keys
Fling them and hide
My watch when the cops see
Too fine to let fly

They constantly watch me
Necks with tiny eyes
Turned to the connection
Next turn in my life

I'd hate to be convicted
My connections keep me prime
Chained to my addiction
Unselfish and divine