The Who

I'm almost
out of paper
and that's
a good thing
because it might
prevent me
from
writing something
that will
embarrass me
in the morning
I'm playing golf
with Billy
and I'll try
to kick
his ass
like he's been
kicking mine
for years
that flew
like a rocket
going straight
nowhere fast
I tried
to record
the rocket's
flight
but couldn't
because
my camera
malfunctioned
before
the rocket
exploded
I lost
my mind
and threw
my putter
into a pond
and had
to use
my two iron
for the rest
of the round
and the whole
damn scene
sounded like
a Who song
from the
opera about
the blind kid
who played
a mean game
of pinball
according to
Elton John
and I thought
a great
pinball player
has to be
the most
inane subject
for an opera
in the long
dubious history
of operas
anyway
I swung
a little
too hard
and watched
the ball
travel
twenty yards
farther than
it had any
right to
toward a
sucker pin
in the
middle
of nowhere
a giant roll
of paper
fell from
the sky
while I
followed
my ball
into a grove
of trees
I thought
maybe I should
write an opera
about the war
in Iraq
from the
perspective
of a chipmunk
with the heart
of a warrior
and the soul
of a philosopher
I found my ball
chipped to a foot
and walked to
the next tee
one down
with two
to play
knowing full well
Billy almost
always birdies
the eighteenth
when he needs to.