It sits on the back of his head.
It’s not quite bald, but it’s thinning.
I wonder how many hairs fell out
because of his company-sized back
hitting the canvas over and over again.
The spotlights are shining on him right now,
over 50,000 people are cheering his name.
He’s not used to that. For years he was booed
for trying to be good. But today he is,
because the man he’s facing is great
at being bad. I can’t remember
sweating as much as these two for anything.
My back hurts from sitting down all day
and I haven’t replaced
the broken lightbulb behind me.
© Carl Burkitt 2021