kissed the concrete

Hit the bowl on the right side,
Started to carve, decided to kickturn,
Front foot came off the board,
Back foot stayed on, when will I learn,
Fell down sideways, landing on my side,
Hand, elbow, shoulder, even my cheek,
All together, or separate, kissed the concrete,
Heard the thud of flesh on the ground,
Just glad that no one else was around.
Left knee felt a tinge, both hands numb,
More from the cold then the slam,
No one else at the park, no one quite as dumb,
Twenty-something degrees, at ten in the morning.
Got back up, plenty pist,
City employee sitting in the car,
Chatting on her cell, visible through the mist,
Didn’t see, didn’t hear, me slamming once again.
Limped off to the car,
Lit a cigarillo and sped off,
Made it half a mile, not too far,
Drove right back, still hadn’t had enough.
Skated some more, working on a few things,
Shook off my slam, shook off the chill,
Slammed pretty hard, shoulder still stings,
But that’s what happens when you get cocky.
Needed to pay attention up on the wall,
Can’t change your mind in the middle of the stall,
Carve or turn, whichever one you decide,
But commit and do it, anything else is suicide.