in County Jail
are big.
You can buy
hamburgers and
fries.
Professional wrestlers
strut and fret their
hour on stage
and the brothers,
the Mexicans and
the white guys
all ooh and aah at
staged flips, kicks,
and punches.
I watch them,
all watching,
all boo's and cheers.
I watch them,
killers and rapist
and thieves
and picture them
in shiny yellow boots
and feather boa's
punching and
kicking and
flipping.
Huge muscled guys,
easily as big as those
on the screen,
they share memories
and talk of
days gone by.
Blonde locked
heroes pinning
villainous heels,
mythology of
simple men in
better times
and the spectacle seems a little less silly to me.
