Fall 2009 / Issues / Poetry 2009 / Volume 40

sunday matinee — Andy Johnson

growing pale and bloated

they sip fast food coffee

and share stories

both glorious and deprecating

in overalls

and mesh baseball caps

faded from Saturday games

at midway stadium

peanut oil thumbprints on the brim

where they lifted them off their heads

for the national anthem

all but one

who is smiling in his

black slacks and white oxford

creases slightly off-center

but crisp

he bends down

and retrieves

a penny.

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