Khabibulin bars the door,
no begrudged puck in the nambty-pamby net,
no stylized snow in my wicked winter,
no naked godlike girl in my browbeaten bed,
Khabibulin bars the door,
no mischievous money in my poetic pockets,
no stick in the mud sadness on my irish ice,
no weak willed red wine in my grooved glass,
keeping everything out of the net
Khabibulin bars the door of wavering eyes.
Added: on Sunday, November 1st, 2009 at 12:10 pm | Viewed: 62 times, 1 so far today | Comments (1)
November 1st, 2009 at 12:12 pm
Khabibulin is a hockey goal tender and I imagined he stopped a lot of things otherwise.