bballer
Sketchfu-ing since 01/06/2008 (user #20687)
18, male, single
chandler
About bballer
I love Sea world and dolphins. that is my dog in my pic and she doesnt have blue eyes it just came up that way in the pic. I ride Dirt bikes i have a yamaha ttr-125 which i just fixed after crasheing into a curb well i guess it would be sliding into a curb with my bike sideways, but anyway im having fun over summer break and this is an awesome poem my friend tee made for me
His sleeves have been rolled
since the tender age of six
when a first miniature backboard
got tacked up above the door
there in his rural bedroom
for him to shoot at repeatedly
any time of the day or night,
and since then the feeling has
spread throughout his system
as these lifelong addictions will,
fixing from the third grade on
this time-honored tradition
of the true Midwestern farm boy
dangerous from the top of the key
whose folks breed Poland China
and vote straight Republican,
saddled when he was twelve
with the costly installation
of a utility pole built special
near the basket out behind the barn
giving him all the needed light
to shoot them in on those
late November evenings across
entire seasons of chill weather,
with an electric fence humming
and his basketball fairly echoing
on the smooth expansive concrete
he and a proud father poured
one long Labor Day weekend,
turning the ball over and over
in his hands a thousand times daily
there in the darkness long after supper
when all the other kids for miles
have gathered in the basement
of the old Methodist parsonage,
shooting it up even now
into orbit after soft orbit
pure as the driven snow.
His sleeves have been rolled
since the tender age of six
when a first miniature backboard
got tacked up above the door
there in his rural bedroom
for him to shoot at repeatedly
any time of the day or night,
and since then the feeling has
spread throughout his system
as these lifelong addictions will,
fixing from the third grade on
this time-honored tradition
of the true Midwestern farm boy
dangerous from the top of the key
whose folks breed Poland China
and vote straight Republican,
saddled when he was twelve
with the costly installation
of a utility pole built special
near the basket out behind the barn
giving him all the needed light
to shoot them in on those
late November evenings across
entire seasons of chill weather,
with an electric fence humming
and his basketball fairly echoing
on the smooth expansive concrete
he and a proud father poured
one long Labor Day weekend,
turning the ball over and over
in his hands a thousand times daily
there in the darkness long after supper
when all the other kids for miles
have gathered in the basement
of the old Methodist parsonage,
shooting it up even now
into orbit after soft orbit
pure as the driven snow.
His sleeves have been rolled
since the tender age of six
when a first miniature backboard
got tacked up above the door
there in his rural bedroom
for him to shoot at repeatedly
any time of the day or night,
and since then the feeling has
spread throughout his system
as these lifelong addictions will,
fixing from the third grade on
this time-honored tradition
of the true Midwestern farm boy
dangerous from the top of the key
whose folks breed Poland China
and vote straight Republican,
saddled when he was twelve
with the costly installation
of a utility pole built special
near the basket out behind the barn
giving him all the needed light
to shoot them in on those
late November evenings across
entire seasons of chill weather,
with an electric fence humming
and his basketball fairly echoing
on the smooth expansive concrete
he and a proud father poured
one long Labor Day weekend,
turning the ball over and over
in his hands a thousand times daily
there in the darkness long after supper
when all the other kids for miles
have gathered in the basement
of the old Methodist parsonage,
shooting it up even now
into orbit after soft orbit
pure as the driven snow.
His sleeves have been rolled
since the tender age of six
when a first miniature backboard
got tacked up above the door
there in his rural bedroom
for him to shoot at repeatedly
any time of the day or night,
and since then the feeling has
spread throughout his system
as these lifelong addictions will,
fixing from the third grade on
this time-honored tradition
of the true Midwestern farm boy
dangerous from the top of the key
whose folks breed Poland China
and vote straight Republican,
saddled when he was twelve
with the costly installation
of a utility pole built special
near the basket out behind the barn
giving him all the needed light
to shoot them in on those
late November evenings across
entire seasons of chill weather,
with an electric fence humming
and his basketball fairly echoing
on the smooth expansive concrete
he and a proud father poured
one long Labor Day weekend,
turning the ball over and over
in his hands a thousand times daily
there in the darkness long after supper
when all the other kids for miles
have gathered in the basement
of the old Methodist parsonage,
shooting it up even now
into orbit after soft orbit
pure as the driven snow.
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