5-2 AGAINST
By Iso ChIp
It’s poetry month and you are quarantined, how much better does it get. We here at Chip love an audience, even if it’s held at gun point. Sit back and enjoy Chip in verse.
I was shopping during these times of trouble,
happy to escape my shelter-in-place bubble.
Cruising the aisles in sweats and a Titleist Cap,
a most pleasant diversion from television and my next nap.
I was hoping to go unnoticed and blend,
buy my groceries, let the world mend.
My plan was solid, my execution was true,
how could I account for eyes so blue?
Taken by surprise, I was stirred and shaken,
my steady hands caught the eggs, but dropped the bacon.
Her blues sparkled with a come hither hue,
egad boy, don’t do it, don’t start something new.
Fueled by my isolated imagination, I was smitten,
mask and all, I wanted to mitt this kitten.
We were socially six feet apart,
God man, back to back, that’s two shopping carts.
The nuns require only a 12 inch rule,
An additional five feet, man I wish I were back in school.
It’s fourth and two,
go for it, or punt, the dilemma of a love struck fool.
I was pacing the meat department, awaiting the call,
hoping for a clean snap, don’t fumble the ball.
Where could I take her, not to dinner or a bar,
how gauche take out pizza in my car?
My butcher called the play, “Line plunge on one,”
fly the two yards, win the girl, get it done.
My deli guy yelled, “Go on and get her,”
my soaring leap fell short, as a cart snagged my sweater,
Instead of landing strong and taking her in my arms,
I was knee deep in produce and Lucky Charms.
As constant as this big blue orb is a twirl,
the odds remain 5-2 against Chip getting the girl.