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Think fast, the pitch just missed your mitt;
that car almost hit head on; your woman’s gone.
Think fast, even if you’re wrong, you made a move;
hands up and prepared to block any shot taken at you.
Think fast, with an incisive one liner off the tip of your tongue;
delivered with the sharpness of a knife, cutting to the quick.
Think fast and stand up straight, my dad would say
on our way into the kitchen every morning
where I would fall asleep at the table before leaving for school…
2008 © T
Ted Sheridan
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