Ode to the Super Bowl:My Take on Americana

WARNING: To some, the language and pictures in this poem may be offensive. Please do not continue if toplessness offends you... I dedicate this poem to my dear dad, "Bernie the Bard."

Arms Control. Super bowl. Pass to goal.
It’s a whole, Freak patrol.

Bright lights, Stars and Stripes. Men in tights.
In the bleachers, Condee Rice.

Copyrights. Commercial hypes. Praising fights.
Name the price, More sound bytes.

In open air. Kick-off prayer. Girls with flair.
Skin so bare, Big fake pair.

Let’s all revel In Aaron Neville. Man for hire.
With a choir, Church attire. Should retire.

Tat on face. Amazing Grace. What a place.
US space. WAY off base, Mental case.

Wearing robes. Music flows. One big pose.
Football pros, Stadium hos.

In for more? Whats in store?
We prayed before. Now, time for war.

What a bore. Football whore.

Big high stakes. Station breaks. Shakes and steaks.
Lots of fakes.

My heart aches.