This is an odd one.I very much feel like I had to wrestle this poem into being, but at the same time it felt very natural, like it came into existence almost fully formed. I just had to prune it a bit, adjust the grammar, show it how to wear its makeup.. The stories told here are almost 100% true.. that isn't something that happens very often. Enjoy. Go Hawks.
"winter (football, fallout)"
a crowd gathered outside a bar
to watch a football game
this was beauty
there was love and hope
this was my city at its finest
a week earlier, game before
a girl, we broke, she drove me home
through the audacity of post-game traffic
we were trapped, so we talked
honesty at last
i told her “life is compromise”
she said “maybe that’s why we can’t work”
i shrugged, offered to get out
she concurred, i obliged
grabbed my bag, went into the street, focused and unsmiling
these incidents were connected
by something i’m normally indifferent to
football season dies as winter limps into its climax
i’m dreading fallout
but praying for celebration
