Duckpin Bowling Birthday

These kids are wild! The cupcakes really shot
Them to the moon. The old attendant grunts
Because he's spoken to us twice to not
Let them throw four balls down-lane all at once.

We grownups stand, arms folded, at the back
Beside each other; look ahead into
The cloud of young--like wasps--such sweet attack
Upon the lanes, the floor, the chairs, and through

The spaces of machinery of fun.
We brought them here, and watch them speed around
In sugar-driven brownian motion.
Each turn they feel some power to astound

Our laughs and scolds. They are spinning wholly.
The spheres roll, roll, toward the pins so slowly.


9/2/12