Transformation: Footballer

(soccer, that is)

When I become a footballer, I run across
grass wildly but stumble into
thick mud as it were: halted.  I become

two years old again and stab at and stomp
and kick things with my legs. Adrenalin-
incited, I then oscillate between manic

ambition and dispirited lethargy. Every
so often, ambition gets what it wanted
from a ball and some netting.

Sweat-ecstasy. For a moment I'm held
in the raucous hive-mind of the Folk.
Even as I begin to celebrate, I feel

the thrill begin to fade. I see the howling
crowd drunk in the rain, and I turn 51
and lie on a couch snoring while TV

broadcasts a soporific match.



hans ostrom 2017

"Bitter Thoughts on Receiving a Slice of Cordelia's Wedding Cake," by Robert Graves

"Men Who Leave," by Wendy Bishop

Precise, Indifferent, Fluctuating

Hiram liked to piss outside in any season.
There's little reward in asking why.
It does have something to do with men.
Inquire of them. Or not.

Hiram, in socks, no shoes,
pissed outside in a rainstorm.
He said to himself,
"This is outstanding. It is right."

As urine flowed through
his cock into sodden grass
lit dimly, he thought, "One
trouble for humans is

that the universe is
absolutely precise (he
was looking at things
that could be only

what, when, and how
they were), in constant
flux, and indifferent to
human preferences. 


Hans Ostrom 2012