Love and Conquest at the AMF Lanes

Obsidian
jewel, every
Thursday
night,

you grace my hand
and let me
guide your
moves.

Smoothly spinning,
you splinter
those tooth
picks,

a thirteen-pound
well-rounded
bomb-shell
blast.

Skirting the edge,
you sweep great
curves and
break…

S---t--r-e-tch, but don’t spare
me, Brunswick
babe -- you
STRIKE!

X-mark those spots
and roll back
on the
racks;

Return to your
lover in
silly
shoes...

Feel my caress
as we share
the same
dream:

ten frames, ten strikes,
three hundred
perfect
points.