Sports Fan with a Remote Control in Hand


The storm of Lebron,
The ballet of Messi,

The sports channels you turn on and off,
The potato chips that go to the afterlife,

The boxer shorts and
The remote control clutched in hand,

Everything that has locomotion
Speed, and skill, the sheer geniuses

On a field of dreams, the eye of the tiger,
And the Picassos on grass,

How it only takes the rituals of cricket,
Or skilled soccer, or speedy ice hockey,

To let one of millions of lazy bones carry
A lazy streak, to the founding eye,

The thrill of a moment, beautifully un-eclipsed,
That defies the lackluster, the sedentary,

How the couch potato,
Changes the channels so often

Surfing on a board, with telepathic
Obsessions, to change a screen,

Just to see the soccer ball curving,
Bending like Messi or Ronaldo,

The heirs to Beckham, or the swing
Of swingers and the wiles of a chinaman,

How all it takes, is the need of the moment,
To become the spud on the couch,

And be crowned the king of duds.

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