He used to sit in his car banana skin between the seats
waiing for the traffic lights to change productive somewhere
electricity inside the vein working the whole day
unknown to himself less the work ethic
nostalgic praise and the admirable virtue
shaping it well into a personal piece of flattery
fitting like a key intothe hardedned ego
criminal by dusk when energy has abandoned
and threats were all a wheezing voice box could spit out
down the court steps the best years of your life
It all resumed into one moment in the sunshine
you won the day but after the liters of stress
they forced you to drink
The liters of sweat and rage that sustained your wrath
through the caged weeks into those looming result months
traffic lights stuck on red
Banana skins rotting in sunlight line through the windscreen
apple core turns dark brown and the fastfood boxes pile
If only you could just expedite this life
Like this big court reaction
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