The Cup

well,
that's fucking it
I guess,
There it was
and we watch it float by us
like lazy clouds
when you're daydreaming
on your back, hands above
resting under your head
the wet warm grass
dampening your clothes,
the sky is blue and solid
beckoning you to stare harder
unfocused
through a calming breeze
and its almost like
you can see into heaven
so you reach out
unmoving
and
a bird shits on your face.

Game 3, 5:59

Thousands of souls,
one on top of the other,
experiencing death regret failure
jubilation success the promise of another day,
a burning light draws them forth
like moths to their destiny,
our destiny, a singular prize,
they call out in unison,
sharing ecstasy, clutching
at grand victories
forever heaped upon history,
all together basking in
the pulsing red light
of a perfect tomorrow.