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?
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.
Posted by: Morgan Dragonwillow | October 21, 2012 at 12:21 PM
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!
Posted by: Beth Camp | October 21, 2012 at 01:30 PM