If I’m going to be an also ran

then I wannabe ballistic

running with a veritable cornucopia

of words

as my Olympic torch

my abundance emblem

clutched high in hand

running across tracks and plains

of competitive games

running with vocal vibrating folds

igniting the sport of rhythm passage

event to event.

I wannabe phrasing different translations

intricately reproducing

the liberty and union of concept

shifting versions and patterns

designing flow according to sound

grasping implications

hidden meanings, whisperings

reporting orally as I run on

about  my philosophy of composition

and how it relates to my runner’s push

all the way through the middle distance

of sessions of controversy

using the style of admirable speeches.

Words lost, strayed, or stolen

can run along also

motioning their torched projectiles

sportfully contending

in a sentence never ending.

I wannabe ballistic!