Mr Curveball Poem by Clive Culverhouse
Mr Curveball
Mr Curveball was a drifter visiting from left field
Mr Curveball only stayed long enough to be a fleeting thought,
a brain sneeze, his presence often indicated by frowns,
robotic owls looking around, he was a head scratch,
fingers on a chin, occasionally rubbing slowly
invisibly introduced as a spaghetti of oddity until he moved on
- a man dressed as a question dressed as a man undressed
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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8/29/2026 1:21:21 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
