Michael Farrell: Bat & Ball

you can take anything into your vision time
  to kneel but who are you an editor
  is opposite with books & ok ideas you
   are only responsible for the images though
   what if you stood there something being
   thrown at you look arund & run
     are you thinking of what you are at this point are
     you letting things slide into your mind to rub or analyse
     later luckily theres no talking involved the pitch remains fast hard
    the games there on the other side of
    the screen make a sign so someone will
    know hit flat it works every time supposing
      you want that & dont want to mooch
      get out sustains a leg injury for reasons
      obscure there are numbers out there they
     want to be in here with the memories
     & anxieties mutated from your first play ever
     was that the word catch or is it
  raining with so much green around maybe
youre in the sea a dog runs to you
 warning you of the body in the clubhouse
you are dreaming yourself & your dad his shirt
 marked with red hes
  exposed his heart or is wounded a tennis
ball lies between the dogs paws
rescued from some lonely lawn just
     grip it in your hands sometimes youve
     got to hurt to heal a lot
     can be said & written down when
    a little stretchings employed or an analogys
brought in at god knows what cost

                 you find yourself immersed in the classics only
to be told not to repeat history not
    even your own any subjects only seemingly
clean & kills like a temple knock or
   interrupted leads to a series of breakings off
because the body or the thought
   is uncommitted or taught to believing in
the fallback position perhaps knowing
               its existence is enough to hold us whether
we won the match or not wiping sweat
      off to come is to be single to be
      part of the test the span the spinoff &
      you walk back to the pavilion in a state