In my head I move faster than my body.

When they loose
their red rubber volley,
I transform:

I prance like stag,
I pirouette like prima donna,
I whirl like wind through wild air —
upon the court, I become
a gymnasium trickster god,
laughing and spritely,
more quick and fae
than this big bellied body
has ever known how to be,
I evade every red comet star,

until empty handed and flustered,
a dozen sweating boys
in white sneakers squeak
bewildered at untouchable me

but I was never untouchable,
never stag nor prima donna,
never wild like whirling air,
never tricksy and divine,

I have always been a barnside,
large and marked out bright,
slapped red on my belly
from every missile lobbed.

— Adam Kamerer

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