sonnet for nick whittock

that love like a bat can tap a balls weakness send it filthy & red to the fence, result, you sweat, say nice words, isnt irony; its what mostd expect an opener to make, with wristy perfection; until the next singing loves a chucker, & theres times id walk. the selection was in the news before i knew; gulls squawk, lbw, the ball separated itself from me; i disdain the box, let love do its worst. return to SHAMPOO 35