poem (fancy sports)

Thinking of southern basketball teams

You might call them squads. And elms.

Taking horse trankquilizers,

Rubbing out backs.

Figuring secret desires perhaps.

Presently it will all be cushioned,

Rings of doves, big numbers on rayon

Actually we know forward to baskets,

Bumping into blue devils, cavaliers

Flowering trees, major ones such as

Catalpas with mockingbirds and snakes.

Dancing is like basketball, Flying silk

pants, underarms and thighs

Raining and the other side is focused

on crying. Pigskin, oh touchdown. But

is that the wrong game?

rodney