Cracked
They said he'd cracked,
like a jar in the wind,
ajar to within.
Grumbling gears in an attic of a mind,
cranked with the resiliency of an old steam engine,
chugging along.
Muddy cigar for the failures,
basement couch for the come-backs,
after being knocked off a hundred times,
the podium has never had this many scratches,
climbs back up every time,
but gallows are never very accommodating.
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