A Super Bowl Poem

The Lord G-d Almighty
Dons His form-fit football jersey
Emblazoned with the numeral “1”–
Which is an inside joke,
Him being the One G-d, and all–
And his team-colors triangle
Pennant on a stick
(Another inside joke, you know).
He perches on his heavenly throne
Wish He still had His footstool
Which used to be in Turkey
Back when they were all Ottomans.
And he calls for Mikay-El,
And Rafay-El and Gavriy-El
(Though Ari-El is not a fan
Of sports and opts instead
For Disney films on Blu-Ray disc.)
The Seraphim all know enough
To shut their thousand eyes
And cool it with Kadosh kadosh
Until the sports are done.
They watch all games in unison
With no sports channel package
The angels keeping careful watch
To see which teams are blessed.
It’s hard to tell, so many teams
Give Heaven credit for those plays
That were just Luck or Skill.
But the athletes seem to think they need
To give G-d all the Glory
And a thousand thousand fans call out
For a miracle or two.
And, sure, a billion people languish
In some stage of starvation
And famine, pox, and pestilence
Are raging through the lands.
And Army shoots at Army
(Though they kill mostly civilians)
But who expects the Holy One–
Blessed be His Name–
To pay attention to such things
When there are Games to watch
And touchdowns to be made.

About Mark Matzeder

By education a filmmaker, by trade an electrician, by avocation a writer and sometime scholar. Occasionally I wring an essay out of some observation I have made or experience I've had and share them here. Sometimes I'll share short fiction. Sometimes a poem. But mostly it's just my spin on this strange trip.
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