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Thursday, March 2, 2017


At 55 I have a ready excuse I did not have at 20
For not managing to score the goal from the odd angle
on the penalty. Though I couldn’t do it then either.
If anything my chances now are probably better.
I haven’t lost anything in accuracy or stamina—just speed.
And I’ve had 35 years of practice. But they’ve seen me play
And so it does not surprise me when I put the ball down
And I hear a teammate say, “don’t try to shoot it.”
No it doesn’t surprise me, it just pisses me off.
So I shoot it. I was probably going to do that anyway.
It passes by the heads of three stupified defenders
And it’s already by the keeper and in the goal before he realizes
He should get ready to defend it. I have twenty missed shots
I know between now and the next time I manage this feat again
Plenty of time for the whole team wonder,
Why are we letting him do this? (For the record,
They’re not letting me. I got the ball. I put it down
And they’re too polite in this rec league of aging men
To do any more than mumble.) Yes, I’ll miss badly the next
Time I try this and many times after that. But for now,
Fuck you, I scored.

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