He bounced the basketball alone
in the chemistry lab, close to
the shapely glass tubes
lounging on the shelves
like Dutch prostitutes.
The long windows exhibit
playing fields, full
of puffed up primates
displaying their burgeoning lip fuzz
while jungle drums beat
excitedly inside the staid lab
as he flies over spindly stools
dodging heavy desks
while the bleached bones
of skeleton Frank,
rear like an angry god.
Now Frank's got good reach,
always in at the deep end
He feints a left, ducking
under stretched fingers
blind, and shoots,
cool as a leopard.
And the crowd goes wild!
Tim, Tim, Tim,
Tim!
Just what do you think you're doing?
Oh sir,
I, thought
and, lunch
time?
