Yeah, you city boy, the seats bounce worse
than worn shocks, and okay, the rug has been boot-painted
with mud. And sure, when the person behind you whispers,
you can't tell if that was part of the movie
or not. AND yes, while we watch Robert Downy Jr. dive
from an open, forty foot high window, we shiver in our winter coats
as if we were the ones who landed in the cold oceanic water.

But where, stranger, are you gonna purchase a ticket
for $3.50 a seat? And where, outsider, are you gonna be greeted
by a clerk who knows where you work? AND where,
foreigner, are you going to sit next to the same family
who attends the Methodist church with you every week?

Not there,

only here.

Oh, the "whoas" of the family horse

My gut tells me to stop
this trot, to rest
and eat the flake. But I am
not bomb-proof. When my bridle
is pulled too quick,
I turn rogue. I can only
carry so much on this back
of mine, and though I so
want to be the easy keeper, I can't
if you make me bear every
backbiting comment this herd
neighs. So please, give me room
above the bit and eventually
I'll be less barn sour.

Roastaroma Football

With each sip I take, the sun bounces off my mug and forms football-shaped light rings that hover over my roasted carob tea (otherwise known as Roastaroma). I write during the commercials of the Ravens and Patriots wild card game. Phrases like "All you need is love" from a McDonald's advertisement infiltrate my brain, and I briefly agree that any competition is enhanced when it is shared with those I am close to. Instead, I am alone and have to call my friend George just to be able to share my awe over the Ravens' defense. In the first quarter alone, they sacked Brady and intercepted passes. Highly unexpected, especially considering that the Patriots have never lost a playoff game at home. I want this to be a game I can later brag about having watched, so, even though my motto forever remains "I love to watch the Patriots lose," I cheer them on when they score a touchdown. I admit, in ways, this bragging right is a small compensation for what I'd really like: having my friends and family join me in my exaltations.