Seven Thirty a.m.

Most mornings
It feels as if we are a football team
Platooning quarterbacks
And anybody who knows football
Knows that platooning quarterbacks is a bad idea
You use two quarterbacks only if you don’t really have one
And even then it is a mistake

It certainly isn’t always like that
Sometimes we work together
Like a good doubles team
Maybe the Bryan brothers

Other times we’re the Detroit Red Wings under Scotty Bowman
Executing stunning shift changes

I’m not a baseball fan
But someone who could stomach watching a whole game
Could even watch us during certain moments
And find himself remembering the handoff between
A setup man and a closer
Maybe Jeff Nelson and Mariano Rivera
And if baseball is your thing
Please picture me as Mariano

My image of choice
If I was me focused
Would be a White Chocolate pass off of his elbow
To whomever
But I’m a team man
So I aspire for the two of us to be Isaiah and Joe D.
And despite the whole Knicks mess
I still want to be Zeke

At 7:30 on most weekday mornings
I fall pretty far short of Zeke
Even the one that is now coaching at Florida International
I think it is safe to say
We often fall short of all of our aspirations

She is almost always yet to leave for work
Filling up coffee mugs
And locating car keys
Amidst a deluge of cheerios
And tears
Which unlike the cheerios
Could be coming from anyone and anywhere

Sometimes everyone wants to say goodbye
At once
In loud voices
At the open door
Or even in the driveway

And sometimes no one wants to say goodbye
Which could mean lots of screaming and pleading
Or could mean that I am fighting to keep everyone within sight and off of the stairs
And off of the table
And off of the cat
And off of each other

And when it is like that
It isn’t clear who is calling the plays
And doesn’t really matter most of the time
Since we are stuck in another winning strategy
The prevent defense