The party is loud and seems to go on forever –
shoes stomp to the beat along gummy hardwood floors.
Late in the night, when bodies finally hang like deflated Lilos over couches,
you, in someone else’s room where the walls are only dirty white sheets,
have rough sex with the captain of the All Blacks.
He is much more aggressive than you’d imagined. His TV persona –
a giant jelly baby implanted with a sporting platitudes chip,
isn’t quite as sweet as …
A short time after ripping off your black undies and going down, he
surfaces furiously to inform you that your Brazilian isn’t up to par.
You might want to rethink your strategy, work on your game, if you
know what he means. For the national good.
Image: “I AM Black Singlet” by Nigel Brown. Used by permission.