Poems of the Week

A Choker

by Dan Campion

“. . . a choker, you know, a choker, they choke . . .”
The President of the United States

Our president is fond of sports.
He’s often on the links:
He drives, he chips, he putts, he sorts
His thoughts; that’s where he thinks.

So when some citizens get shot
His brain tees off with, What?
Cops must’ve “choked.” Were in a spot.
“They miss a three-foot putt.”

It’s all the same to him: the green,
The ball, the club, the flag,
A riddled body, bloody scene.
A mulligan. A drag.

Next time you hear a shot, don’t blink.
Think golf. It’s just the plop
A choker landed in the drink.
No sweat. He’ll take a drop.