Extraits

Soccer.

At practice.

Fifty calves flexing.

Making stuff happen in the mud,

This is how the world works,

This is what's you're up against.

You'll never make it.

Your stomach is flabby.

And you don't know all the plays,

So when you quit

And they call you faggot,

They will be right.

Imagine the last minute

Of Super Bowl one Hundred:

It's tied,

A bunch of brutes

Lining up and smashing in the mud, with cups avoer thei cocks,

An their asses in tight pants.

So much invested in each body,

The no longer belong to the players,

This last minute of wills crashing,

Of money and entertainment,

Of corporate sponsorship,

Yes, exciting,

But I can't watch.

I never liked team sports.

I never likes sports,

Just the idea of them.