Whenever he planned things

some Thing turned them awry

shivved them in the back

artfully  in the kidney

left them on their knees

in an alley they didnt know

and barely   above the pain

wondering

how they ended up there

and there

and there and there

                                                                                                              waylaid

cracked on the back of the skull

suckerpunched

coldcocked

ransacked  

                          and left for the buzzards

with such unenviable luck   he stopped planning

he stopped revealing to the Universe his intentions

She was being a bitch

he would have thought long  long ago

it should have occurred to him

to keep his big mouth shut

and walked away

Fuck!

Ran away!

but he hadnt

evidently he had a longgg learning curve

  

attended the School of Harder Knocks

black eyes  bruises    scars

though he saw no shame in them

he uttered they were signs of character  

of dogged perseverance

not cheap tattoos just pricked under the skin

                                                                           No  his thick hide wouldnt allow them

anymore than his thick skull

And the NOT planning began to pay off

She bit on his head fakes

bought his stuttersteps    and clutched empty air when he cutback

if need be  his jab his straightarm was loaded up and cocked

he was doing the rockin now

comin out of nowhere

goin nowhere

except for where

and where

and where and where

                                        he meant

silently

he was liberated

2357,  Twosday,  25  11. 14