Jackasses

Jackasses

Keeler, Greg
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I forget which guy said he climbed a mountain
because it was there. That always seemed like a lame
excuse to me. I know some dudes who stand
on ledges and lean out over chasms in a little game
where thermals hold them up—or not. They
would hang from a jet’s landing gear by their teeth
if they saw some odds in it. Whether they play
on air, water, snow or cement, their brief
trysts of rolling, sliding and gliding against
or with gravity hold enough cause and effect
in themselves. There’s no sense in making sense
where adrenaline is its own excuse. Suspect
their motives, call them fools, but don’t waste your breath
on why as they zip wide-eyed between life and death.
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