These are the thoughts of a Texas transplant in West Michigan who makes his living as a newspaper reporter by evening, and a struggling novelist by day.

Sunday, March 09, 2008

ass funk

ass funk,
it's in the seat, it's on your clothes
or, watch out, it's up by your nose.

in hopes of watching hoops,
your wide back side hides it all.
standing up a each play's end
you make no excuses, you don't pretend

you turn away, why should i belong,
i'm not snotty enough to sit by you,
but you've got enough, oh pew!

ruin the game, the first i've seen,
without a friendly word, you look away,
even though my ticket says so

ass funk,
a surprise, i guess,
though what comes from one end, comes from another
the stank of each, causes people to smoother

a sweaty game,
the seat's too narrow,
crunch your buns,
stand up and holler,

run home, run,
let the water drip,
let the crack feel the cool,
let the funk fade away.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

That stinks.

3:06 AM


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