Fifteen years and still going strong – Only A Game’s Super Bowl Haiku make a triumphant return with some notable hut-hut-Haiku players.
X L I I I
Carved in stone, carved in brush cuts.
X L I I I
Security’s tight.
Fans… tight, loaded, howling drunk,
Won’t be allowed guns.
Bank’s Super Bowl ad…
Empty vault. Manacled suit.
Crawl reads: Send money.
TRAIN WRECK IN TAMPA?
SEISMIC SUNSHINE STATE STRUGGLE?
Football game today.
But for a bullet,
Bang! Down the leg of a fool…
They might be Giants.
“Steelheads” he called them…
My cousin Dave in Pittsburgh.
“Steelheads.” Why was that?
The Eagles landed…
Not on the moon, in a heap.
Not Houston’s problem.
Big Ben Roethlisberger. Grrr.
Troy Polamalu. Warm sand.
Cool breeze. Picks pocket.
The smart money says:
“Pittsburgh.” “Cheep” chirps the Card’nal.
Wrong. Nothing’s cheap here.
Kurt Warner recalls
His first Super Bowl. Recalls,
Too, the Civil War.
(Voice one)Ten large gets your seat
On the fifty yard line, right?
(Voice two) Nope. Madoff got it.
Nevermore than now
Has the raven’s croak, plaintive,
Sung Baltimore blues.
Red runs Card’nal blood!
Hell, it’s pro football, baby.
They all gonna bleed.
Watching the big game
In Philly, Coach Reid eats…eats
Everything he sees.
That pass route across
The middle: Wish it on your
Worst foe why would you?
Red on blue sky, bird
Swoops, dances in bright air, dips,
Dumps on smart money.
On the field, snap, crack,
Blink, you’re on your back, out cold.
T.V. slows it down.
At the bench’s end
Sits the man who hates himself,
Hopes his teammate fails.
Barak Obama.
Forget the game a minute.
Barak Obama.
Card’nals? Steelers? Ah,
The banged-up guy won’t recall
Which one he played for.
Football shoulders in,
Bruises the month when pitchers,
And catchers report.
How’s it football, then?
Ya pick it up in ya hands!
Nah, ‘snot football, mate.
