he jumped into the vault
no net
launched into a wide and open
land of no flats
and rolling regrets
praying to a one and only
man, not the big man
but, his big man
behind the house
where he pushes down
on his frets
hoping for forgiveness
and recognition
a status he thinks
 he knows he owns
running for the gold
out here where he sets
his elbow on the road
the burns mark later
swells and abets
down at the boar
a petty wager
red you see, lonely
rager he gets
every two's or third's
the only stage his fear wets
yet between his
ears east coast birds
sing familiar tunes
he retreads
as his oily hairs fall
past a screen of colonial
lights