Soccer Practice
Teenage girls, glow like mall-fountains.
Their sweat saturates senses, nourishes
male pattern baldness.
We avoid looking directly, talk game plans,
look through mind-veils.
The boys spit and hawk,
rub themselves against
invisible fans called Rita.
Splatter the ground with oaths,
dribble as if they had long hair
and this is steamy Rio, not Ohio.
A lick of green drips
from each spilled water bottle.
Soccer moms hand out signed glances
to the coach;
he smirks and pats his own ass.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2023
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