I'm Not Counting on a Comeback

by Kevin Brown

I grew up with sports
metaphors, so let’s say
life is The Big Game:
we were born into our fandom;

we tailgated hours before
kickoff; and we stood
and cheered and hung our
heads in our hands as plays

went our way or didn’t;
and by the end of the third
quarter, we were winning
by thirty, or behind

by the same—I don’t know
how your life has gone—
either way, as Bob once sang,
we don’t need the weather

man to tell us which way the
wind is blowing; and I see
people packing their belongings,
maybe pretending they’re just going

for a hot dog, but really rushing
to their cars; they waited
all week for this game, talked
trash about the other team

at work, wondered with
their kids, their lovers,
their neighbors if this week,
please, we could do it,

put all their passion into the
players and worked to will
them to victory, and now
they’re more concerned
about traffic.

We all have a future
until we don’t. But I’m
not leaving early
to beat the crowds home.