The Spectator

Perched on the edge of his seat
Leaning over his knees
His jaw line is busy working
Constantly gnawing teeth
Unconsciously, he spits out insults or encouragements
As his patience is put to the test
His elbows dig deeply
Into the corners of the armrest
His hands nervously clench, and then uncoil
Fingers fidget and flick before fists are recoiled
Several times he began to rise ready to shout and cheer
Several times he disappointingly sunk back down and consoled himself with a swig of beer
Yelling at the TV screen
Expecting the players to hear his point of view
Distraught, he turned to prayer
His team just went down three goals to two
There is still time to turn the game around
If they only did as he said
But the clock is quickly ticking down
And he senses an impending dread.

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About Penlateral

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This entry was posted in poems, poetry, silly bits. Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to The Spectator

  1. Penlateral says:

    Ah shucks. I don’t think anybody could escape the world cup. I’m more of a rugby fan, but I’ve seen so many, lets say “passionate” supporters that I had to squash them into one. And I know I’ve been guilty of similar in the past. Thank you ever so much for your comments. Once again you are too kind.
    Take care Magicpoet and continue to cast your spell of words.

  2. magicpoet01 says:

    I think somone has been feeling the tension of the World cup maybe?
    The sense of tension is evoed really well in the position of the watcher, the gnawing of the teeth, elbows digging into his armrest, the fists, the finger fidgeting andthe character is so real.

    • Penlateral says:

      Ah shucks. I don’t think anybody could escape the world cup. I’m more of a rugby fan, but I’ve seen so many, lets say “passionate” supporters that I had to squash them into one. And I know I’ve been guilty of similar in the past. Thank you ever so much for your comments. Once again you are too kind.
      Take care Magicpoet and continue to cast your spell of words.

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