Proofs of Purchase

The following thoughts have filtered from a mind that has been oversaturated with images, screams, romance, text, and sounds since The Carter Administration. If you are not satisfied, then I recommend a double chocolate brownie from Starbucks with a tall bold of the day.

Friday, January 15, 2010

Walter Payton

Your perfume colors my nostrils
As your dialogue blocks my ambition
I stiff arm your negligence at midfield
As your stubborness tackles me at the 40 yard line
But a first down is made
John Madden drools about his nuclear turkey leg
While I puree black beans with orange juice and crisp peppers
The trick play catches you off guard
As I leapfrog your defensive back, whose curly mop pokes out the helmet
You reappear as a safety to rip my arms off
It's far too late, though, as the ref calls an illegal hit
First and goal is where the beat reigns supreme
Logic can tackle you when the goaline lies past Minnesota
I do a biscuit shoulder shake and the goaline morphs into the Pacific Coast
The crowd noise coasts with the blue velvet
Purifying my legend as a clutch player
Rather than a choker
Game over. I got you.
Six points

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