There’s a billion folks in poverty.
A billion more are sick.
Every day a million innocents
Will fall for dirty tricks.
Homeless folks are freezing
And millions have no food
But you made a cross at halftime
So I’ve got you, football dude!
Tag Archives: Football
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If a player kicks a keeper
And the team won’t throw him out
Then you keep the keeper-kicker
And the kicked-keeper loses clout
But when the keeper-kicker seeks
To eat the kippers that he picked
He finds the kicked-keeper’s keepers
Had the aforementioned kippers nicked.
So the keeper who was kicked
And the keeper-kicker keep
Debating whether the kipper-nicker
Could be safely called a creep.
Meanwhile, the kipper-nicker
Reveals the kippers from his knickers,
Looks upon the bickering keeper
And his kicker and he snickers.
Filed under Poems
Dear Not-America, Love The U.S. of A
Hello from America,
Where we play real football!
Our dicks are the same size as yours
Although you’re not as tall.
Our women spend more money
And our kids aren’t well-behaved
But we have free tap water
And most of our roads are paved.
We owe your nation money
That we’ll never repay
But we also have lots of nukes
So please do what we say.
Our politicians are all crooks
And most are wimps as well
But we pledge them our allegiance
And pretend that things are swell.
But speaking patriotically
Our country’s still the best
At drinking booze per-capita
And functioning while stressed.
Here’s how you can emigrate
From where you live right now:
Just walk to California
And never leave. Kapow!
Filed under Poems
When You Can Watch Something Other Than Baseball And Golf Again
‘Twas the week before football
And all through the States
Everyone outside Boston
Came to terms with their fates.
So many Don’taes,
Tyrones, and Lamars
Checked if Wendy’s needed
Someone who could lift cars.
Meanwhile those lucky
To remain on their teams
Prayed the ACL gods
Would not ruin their dreams.
The fans were all cozy
Wrapped up on their couches
While the TV says who’ll be
The sleepers and slouches.
And a tenth of a billion
Mostly female folks
Didn’t see the appeal
Of tackling blokes,
Yet still two-hundred-million
Pulled on overpriced shirts
With the last name of someone
Whose whole body hurts.
They’ll sit back to watch
As the combat begins.
They’ll be happy as long
As their animal wins.
Filed under Poems
This Losing Thing Is Underrated
At first today my heart was pained
By knowing every team
In the NFL I cared about
This year had lost their dream.
Then my brain switched on a light
And I did realize
Two teams I strongly dislike
Have to get hit by guys twice my size,
That excellence and victory
Brought them 4 weeks of extra pain
For a 50/50 shot
At a trophy they might gain.
And somewhere betwixt my brain and heart
I realized how futile are rings and crowns
And found new admiration
For the 49ers and the Browns.
Gridiron
Gray steam rises from the sod
Obscuring the outlines
Of eleven men who would be God
If their teammates become so first.
The sky is darkness no one sees
Behind the lightning wall.
The crowd is warm despite the breeze
And bravado shields a heart’s true thirst.
A coin is flipped, a ball is thrown,
And bodies slowly shatter,
A ring is forever. A broken bone?
A pittance to the undying.
And so they fight, part man, part boy
So does decay commence.
They’ll either bottle tears of joy.
Or else just end up crying.
Here we see the warriors die,
Although they call it play,
Our voice is one great battle cry
To lend the few our will.
No longer are our swords so deft,
But fantasy’s alive.
Long ago the dragons left,
But here there’s magic still.
Filed under Poems
Rape Culture?
I was the star of my football team
Through high school and beyond.
I was six-foot four, 400 pounds…
When I walked I shook the floor.
When I got to college
I tried out for the offensive line
But apparently “make me a sandwich”
Had been used, and I was declined.
I dieted, I exercised,
I worked both day and night.
I dropped to a mere 250 pounds
And practiced catching right.
I came back my sophomore year
And became the team’s tight end.
I got a jersey and a girlfriend.
I thought my life was on the mend.
But, through football player logic,
I thought some heads needed a dent.
The police disagreed with me
So off to jail I went.
Now four years later I return,
No longer a brawler or deceiver.
You may go to jail a tight end
But you return a wide receiver.
Filed under Poems
Why I Love Football
This month we will experience
The NFL’s preseason
In which millionaires hit each other
Deapite the lack of any reason,
And we the fans will cheer
To kick our team’s rival’s posterior
Because we can’t play ourselves
Since we’re genetically inferior.
We’ll sit and eat and fart a bit
And somehow manage to sweat.
At the end half of us will sob
While half say “best preseason yet!”
Then we picture our team’s victory
And order larger pants
With the logo of some other team
That actually has a chance.
Filed under Poems
Read This Poem To Your Children… You’ll Thank Me Later
Seahawks run.
Hawks run slowly.
Seahawks run quickly.
Spelling matters.
Patriots suck.
Filed under Poems
For Those Who Can’t Wait, There’s Always Wrestling
Today’s a unique day
When tens of millions of men
Are depressed as they begin waiting
To see men in tight pants fighting again.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 