Caught

Evil is caught and corralled
in a corner of the playground
the sweet breeze is caught on my cheekbone
I am caught up in this ink
Words have a hard getting caught in my mouth
When they should
And I want to grab them out of the air
But I cannot tresspass on the greed of the neon nothingness
and I spin them around in my head
And the black and white spotted dog is caught up in dancing
Frolicking
In the bright red and orange leaves.