Bite More / Taste Less -------> (Ramblings)

Ramblings of a alleged realist, supposed poet, and apparently ambitious something-or-other.

Watching My Brother

 

There are as many worlds as

there are people

and I’m watching my little brother’s

world being stuffed inside a football helmet

tight and safe

and now it is being carried off onto a

football field by his body.

.

The rain is rubbing its knuckles on the

tops of heads and on sleeves

and umbrellas.

Our ancestors sit in the stadium lights

a quiet cloud of witnesses.

.

On Friday nights angels stoop down

over football fields to wash their hands

in the shouts and shame of people

and sing their lessons

and I am doing my part

not for them but for my brother.

.

He is kicking a field goal and I get more

nervous for him than I ever do for myself.

.

And then I hate Fridays because he misses

and I would rather be the one missing

so I think about how many brothers have

missed field goals and

how many brothers there are

compared to angels

and how many worlds that is.