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A round peg, a square hole - par for the course |
| A round peg in a square hole? Well. To have a club foot and become a champion skater Is corrective surgery, training from childhood, and will. Kristi Yamaguchi did it, still. But to train daily, Kristi, from the age of three? The three-year-old you skated smoother than me It’s true it’s a grand sport to try Meanwhile years glide, jump, spiral by Here’s me with falling memories, with crashes unknown, Many years grown I won’t realize my malady — I won’t till I do. Still think (say) I’m strong? We weren’t patented toys after all For hyper-flexible demands. I kneaded my need, soft ice in my hands, Saying, “this must be that shape now” — 10 cramped years of experience. Perhaps it’s just me but I think that either The round peg has to be so very small That it slips on past whether it fits at all Or it hurts until the square hole Spin-blades it into edges Life named itself “square” in the end For me (and I never really met her) In the Kiss and Cry (me, Metro, not Olympic Ice) it whispers conversation, friend to friend. |