the sun highlights the lack in each
John Divola, As Far as I Could Get: 10 Seconds, 1996
A poem by Klipschutz:
“the sports page makes the news”
A-Rod, A-Rod, A-Rod, say it isn’t isn’t so.
Cross your fingers if you have to, but Say it!
Do it with your game face on, A-Bro!
I wouldn’t know you from A-Dam
or Bam-Bam or C-Span
but I love you for your flaws,
in that fecklessly American way.
Didn’t you date the Mother of God?
Maybe she can help!
Why do people hate you
just because you’re a prick?
Whatever they throw, it won’t stick!
Unless you already admitted everything.
I wish I could help, and say so knowing
that I can’t, and don’t know the score,
except that you’re not J-Lo or K-Fed,
or A. Alvarez, or even A.A. Milne.
But I don’t mean to be unsympathetic.
To tell the truth, maybe I do.
I’ll work with my therapist on that,
’cause A-Man, maybe a man with a bat
circling the bases and tipping his hat
is the only thing in the world that’s really true.
It might help to pay it forward,
and buy my book, A-God,
to give me some skin in the game!
For eighteen bones (nothing to you),
I could mount a Save The-Rod campaign.
Like the guy they buried alive said: Think outside the box
(And when you crack my book, wear your lucky socks!)
I apologize for not having The Facts,
there’s simply too much to keep up with,
between updating my to-do list,
picking a side in Egypt,
changing my name to K-Lip,
my rematch with The ABC of Reading
and telling the Dickman brothers apart and all.