today
an observer
will hang amidst the
crushing crowd of bodies
waiting with
binoculars swung
round and round
a curious neck leaning
over the stands
of life or death


today
an observer
will see the walls and floors are
gritty tiles, off-white
squares
hunched bodies
crouched over the
still water, a sky shade
of blue
unmoving (for a moment)
as six strips of plastic
- red white red white -
tear limbs apart
at the seams like
a stitch torn up by the force
of a beam


today
an observer will smell chlorine
sleeping with humid air
as sweat
and unshed tears
create bubbles of gravity
cheer on the stands of
confession cheap pretzels
melting with nacho cheese
and gatorade sweating
in buckets of fat ice
for two dollars each
thank you, ma'am


today
an observer will hear the
flags scream a mascot's
name,
forgotten in the pounding
rain of water
rushing through veins
as hunched bodies dive under
at the sound of a deafening buzzer
(finally)
free from the
reins


today
an observer will notice
all of these little things
and not bother a
second glance
because
after all
these are just
some observations.