Super Bowl Sunday, Writing Eastward

2 02 2020

I turn my back to the TV

but receive corrections still,

proffered graces all and sundry

for unbelievable prices

we watch, to be fed

by needs unnoticed

amused by battles from war that only ends

when Nielsen says stop

 

A fast five years ago

on such a sunday, alone

led me here

though I couldn’t tell you how

Grace that grants changing mercies

is more constant than a timeslot

or a 30-second spot

soon interred in youtube

 

three points

often decide the day

though one be sufficient

two or more gather

in extremity

Beg your forbearance, my chief

but we are merry today

then tomorrow, continue to die