namath wants to play again,
to win again. -- street and smith's pro football

i am gay
for andrew. it's
true. blonde, smiley
andrew. he is so
sweet. he talks baseball
with guys he doesn't know
outside bars while smoking. he laughs
at me. his songs end

when they're supposed
to end; he hates
long songs
because they're a waste
of time if they suck.

tonight i describe
him as the ultimate
specimen to sarah; a broadway
joe in his heyday. i find andrew
scoping the stage
before his band's
performance, scan
his whole body.

after they play
our go-to hoodies brush
brush against each other

in the corner of the bar
as we play twenty-five levels
of gauntlet. he tells me

i have to play after i say
i don't want to, explains
that the 4-player machine
doesn't need quarters
when we die. i press

between andrew and his fiance
and stay for at least ten levels
before we switch spots. after
i find out he is wizard

i hump his character
with mine, realize
what i'm doing -- then concentrate
on staying a safe non-supercrush
distance away. when i become wizard

i fail miserably. he takes longer
breaks from the game
because his hand hurts, asks
if we should quit. but like joe
namath, he hangs it up
long after he's in pain. i know
we will never go
beyond this level.

03/11/2008

Author's Note: "life kicks ass" 1:17

Posted on 03/11/2008
Copyright © 2024 Paul Marino