[image: theaposition.com]

That Ghoulish Game called Golf

As I approached the first tee
My confidence intact
I visualized each single move
From start until impact.
The ball in flight was perfect
As it lifted from the ground
And flew across the wild blue sky
A moment so profound.
The arc was something to behold
It mesmerized my senses
Defying wind and rain
All things profane
And nature’s air defenses.

I took my place upon the tee
On holy ground they say
The roar of souls of those long gone
Subsided in a reverential way.
I set that ball upon its tee
And gripped my club with pride
Intent on giving that little sphere
A hellish roguish ride.
I raised my club with style and grace
Then like a pariah dog
I crunched it straight into the ground
With a screaming flailing flog.
Then I slapped and whacked and
Splattered it into tiny little remnants
While gasps and screams ripped at the seams
Of those in rapt attendance.

Oh somewhere skies are perfect
And somewhere stars are bright
And somewhere music fills the air
And somewhere left is right.
Now golfers come and golfers go
But any way I will it …
Whenever folks are watching me
Afraid I might whiff past that ball
I simply try to kill it.