fourth grade recess.

her hands off security now,

his hands covering blood now,

i watch them as they shout,

(a scream!) 

cry and blame about.

they are running across, swinging,

up and down the moss, sliding,

their legs 

like scissors in the lost and found,

snipping the loose, crumbling ground.

i hear her stomp, rushing to here, 

(i hear him stumble, rushing to there,)

shaking the bridge, 

(caught on a ridge,)

buckling its planks,

(his tumbling body yanks,)

with hair like bronzed spaghettified gold.

(surely not doing what he's been told).

i hear them push, i hear them pull,

i hear them tossing, i hear them stop.

i see them skipping a one-legged hop.

i see her benched body sigh in lull.