Football

BFootball Fansrings out the worst in us
Tribal aggression
Ritual war
Between nations
Cities
Religions
Politics

Fans sold as markets
Advertisers bidding
For our money
Nations bribing
To host the next
Competing at extortion
Of their citizenry

And every four years
I spend thousands
Jets and hotels
Tickets and t-shirts
At gouging prices
To watch other men
Play a simple game
A beautiful game
To come together
With thousands
We are the chorus
In this opera
Cheers and groans
Tears and arms held high
And though we know it will end
We do not know how it will end
Who will exit the stage
Supporting role eliminated
When the referee blows time
Until just the chorus remains
With one champion
And the long trip home

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About Bartholomew Barker

Bartholomew Barker was born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough, North Carolina where he makes money as a computer programmer to fund his poetry habit.
This entry was posted in Brazil 2014, Poetry and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Football

  1. Cheryl says:

    Beautiful Bart :)

  2. Pingback: Fly Leaf Books | Bartholomew Barker, Poet

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