Here's a fantasy I forgot:
My First Game as a Running Back
In uniform, I’m feeling dread.
Our son’s not quite a man, he’d said.
I’d overheard him years ago:
Is this a phase that he’ll outgrow?
He never wants to run and play.
Mom said, He studies every day.
On the first play, my jock too tight,
I shift position to the right.
He’s far too conscious of his clothes.
Good god. He cooks, and sometimes sews.
The play’s a pass. My feet are light
and thread an opened seam, take flight.
You even let him study dance.
You want our boy to be a nance?
Dogged by defenders, I pirouette
and snag the ball. But laid out flat,
I crack two ribs. She’s full of joy
when Mom shouts out, Now that’s my boy!
I wonder why they think this grand,
and wish that I played in the band.
Dad toasts me with a Blatz beer can
before he bellows, You dah man!