LT stumbles
for Lawrence Taylor, peace and solace
fiction
edward w pritchard
LT your eyes look sad. If you would have been at our favorite pub we would line up to buy you a light beer.
You were supposed to keep running, straight over top of the quarterback. Fling him ten yards backwards and dance and romp.
Biceps like beer kegs and a grip of steel to clutch claw and grasp with.
LT you shouldn't have got old. Even your friends can't abide to look into your eyes now. That's what they do with used up linebackers I guess. Clipped without a flag from us all.
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