Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Poem: Not too Proud to Officiate

by Alex Gallo-Brown

I am not too proud
to officiate kickball

to preside over colorful young professionals
booting their way through
a Sunday afternoon

Twelve bucks a pop they pay me
to call balls and strikes,
and to arbitrate a series of other
overly complex rules

The teams, some of them, summon
a seriousness those Sundays,
a fierceness, a fervor
that can discomfit.

But others convey an Absurdist take.
Grown up children
or childish adults,
playing the game as it was intended.

The Somberists, on the other foot,
approach the game like full-fledged adults,
strategizing and scolding,
employing sarcasm and stomping around.
Like playground bullies, they revel 
in their anger, their meanness,
they thrive on meaningless conflict.

Meanwhile, behind the plate, 
I narrate the balls and strikes,
hollering into the day
for a little bit of cash,
trying to confine my judgments to the rule book
instead of the players' characters.

1 comment:

  1. hahahaha i know you call strikes against the ass holes, you just can't help yourself!