Coach Turner's Eulogy

This cemetery faces the high school
parking lot where Johnny Ralph McPhearson,
the best quarterback Ashmore’s ever seen,
kissed his girl Kelly Culp and, like a fool,
squealed up the street as fast as fast could be.
He dodged the Jackson twins at First and Main,
then shot across the tracks and beat the train
with fifteen yards to spare, at least. Kelly
squeezed Johnny Ralph’s athletic thigh and cheered
him on as if it were a Friday night
and he was scoring under hometown lights.
It was then the tire blew and J.R. veered
into his daddy’s hulking Blazer’s path,
which puts us down by three—how sad the math.

Comments

[Csherm]

Ouch!

[Csherm]

Hope you don't mind my following and commenting. Nice to see you here! :)

[Bob Zordani]

Please do.

[Chris Boese]

Hi Bob, just making sure you wanted to post this here, vs at Bittersweet. Some folks have posted on the green page by accident, which is why I'm checking. You can still post at Bittersweet, but have to click the Bittersweet link first, from the Dashboard page, to make it go there instead of here.

[Bob Zordani]

Yes, this is a finished poem, Chris. I put the drafts on Bittersweet.

[Chris Boese]

Cool! BTW, if you decide you don't want the green design, look under the Design tab, and there are a whole bunch of other templates there to choose from you (you've probably already done that, and picked this one, but I just know this is the default design, so hope you don't mind me trying to be helpful).