To Flow, To Abhor, To Tiny Yet Burly Men Climbing My Spine, Bone by Bone

Today I abhor…

Televised Football  noise in the background

The ache in my face

Words like abyss and beckon

Blank stares in any pointed direction

People who take photos insisting upon smiles

Saying “Cheeeeeeesssssse” which is so cheesy, for God’s sake don’t ask me to say cheese or I might bite your head off and stick you in a pile of Bleu or Muenster or Swiss, just for fun

Today I flow with the things I abhor by ignoring their existence

But the background football noise is a ladder up my spine

Which tiny yet burly men are climbing up bone by bone

A roar of spectators urges them on, testosterone dripping

From their multicolored knee pads that dig into my

Flesh rung after rung after rung….

Personal foul called on number 33

Crowd roars in delight as the tres double digit

Falls from the spine ladder and Freddy

Mercury miraculously continues to sing

“We Will Rock You” and I attempt, poorly

To flow with a poem.

Is it working?

Comments

[Morgan Dragonwillow]

That is one thing I don't have to listen to any more. At one point in my life I said if I couldn't beat them I would join them and knew more about the game than he did.

Cheese... it makes me wonder who came up with it.

I can feel the tension in this poem, it pulled me in and through.

Peace to you friend.

[Beth Camp]

Oh for a room of your own -- far from football noise! I know the constant yammering of the 'game' well and actually followed Morgan's lead by learning a bit about the game. So I will watch now and then, just not all that often. Here, I love the burly men clambering up and down your spine; humor softens the bite in the poem. I wasn't sure about that jump sideways to cheese or why the narrator's face hurts, but this poem works for me!