Take me darling to the football game
Hotdogs with mustard (Act like I eat them,
scrunch my nose, chew carefully)
Sip diet Coke from Spartan colors straw
I'll say I know the game,
cheer at all the wrong times (darling,
our players are wearing the white jerseys).
With no father, I've never watched this game before.

Maybe there's electricity in the air—
our team can never score, but we score today!
And we're down, 13 to 7, but you're there,
I'm there,
Clench my hand when the tackle's made
And there's thirty seconds on the clock,
Fourth down? No darling it's first
Standing up screaming my eyes to tears,
marching band—all seven—thump,
tinny trumpets crooning,
Eight seconds left—but then
number 80 missed the connecting pass,
Pirate's cheers of victory triumphant.

But you kiss me when the Spartan's lose,
my hair falling out of your hands clammy cold,
mustard cloaked in your breath by strips of minty heat)—
and I think maybe football's not so bad.