Touchdown City

Coming in hot, bright and flashing like light breakin thru the wicker shed into daylight into feeling into grass into heads, into daylight, back here, into room. Flash flash flash they flash flash. Burned circles floating through the particulars. Hit em hard, hit em loose, coach said, hit em good, hit em high, square your shoulders. You know the center when you find the center. Move with your legs, not with your mind. Hit your spot, hit the next the next the next. Sunshine Angel in a suit stending his hand in mine, wet and deadfooted in a suit I borrow from Uncle Charlie and the Bratigan Gang down Mortimer Street where they sit on der porch crossing der legs, spitting seeds or chaw, looking downward or angelwise, low hat and most gumption and they white like I white. Sit in the back, keep it low, play the numbers, smile a lot, smile more, smile more, thank god, hit the spots, sit in the back, smile more. Don’t raise no stink. Don’t go out with the raised tire boys, and the slow moniker dribble den, keep it on the backburner, stay in, watch a movie, relax. Hit the gym, hit the marks, square  your shoulders, keep it low, keep it high, hold the ball, both hands when you want to close yur eyes, sign your name, hit the gym, hit the dorm, keep quiet if you’re make it loud. Wear a rubber, if not, deny. Don’t let anyone take pictures, don’t be in a place you woodn’t want yur picture shot, keep your hair cut, keep it clean, keep it low, square your shoulders, lean back, mark your counts. Sit in a chair in your borrowed suit and thank god and smile and wear the cap, nod the breem, nod forward, smile a lot, thank god, meet the coach, get the playbook, think of hotels and women and nights and try to smile while they flash the big brassy cold shoulder lights of day, the people more then you know, hundreds, thousands, people in the nether sections, people who wear a jersey, people, people, people, people, with their voices, saying keep it loud, keep it fresh, don’t forget wher eyou came from and slip a little extra ditty underneath the backpen of the microscope, and member you came from a dubble wide, and don’t forget about Lisa, or Denny, or Mark or Corey or Lou or anyone, never, never forget anyone, never forget to square your shoulders, hit your mark, sit in the back, smile a lot, learn the play, don’t frown at coach, run until you cayn’t breath any, feal the blood, littler still, hit your marks, don’t let the bright lights burn you, don’t be nevrous, only once, only once, only a thousand rabblerousing hit em sleep and run meetings with film and worksheets already filled just need a name, longsleep in the back of the bus, last in the shower and first out, swallowed up mash and string and folding chair meeting where we smile and introduce and you see the men out in the stands with their sunglasses and biknocks trying to get a handle on something they couldn’t handle demselves, fat old and spindly, seeing dollar signs between faces, like an eregular horse and harry, drawn up gold and gloading and massive and and drumming some war sung Uncle Charlie used to huff out when he was dankered out spitting on the side of clay marble pool hall gut fuel running on empty. First one to go to college. First one to make a mark. First one to slab and piss and stink all over the dry counties and set a running record and they tore out the field goal and made it the school masthead. You hit em hard, you hit em loose, you geet the smile from the bucktoothed gap happy club, nodding balmy shit through some cocktails and lunches paid in cash, slipped in cash, cash in every unknockered place in existence, and they are showing you with the Sunshine Angel right before he saids your name, watching you and the familys look at each other and holler at the table, hugging and smiling, the lights coming on bright and strong like the light breaking thru the wicker shed with the barbells and the deadlifts and the weightbelts, and Uncle Charlie stutters into your ear, you made it kid you made it, so hit it hard, hit it loose, hit it square, don’t ask questions, hit it hard, hit it loose, shake some balmy sweat stocked dollar sign seeing living breathing dying with it in the box between you and the lord hands, breathe it hit it, shake it, stiff it, stutter it, stretch every dumb minute of yur body out towards the unregarded eighteen feet tangle before your hairy hairless body and make sure the cleaner cut gentleman got the big bulb in because its time for showtime, hit it hard hit it fast, hit your gaps, break your name, break your back, bequeath yourself to the Sunshine Angel and bring it home to Mortimer to daylight to touchdown city.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s