all the hoopla

today is a special sunday--
i am propped with pillows on stuffed couch,
binding reeds and ash coils and wooden hoops
pressing them to even.
though i'll pretend it doesn't matter
(it isn't world peace or a cancer cure, after all)
i'll still peek at the big screen and fretfully cheer
for football--the states kind--
the green and gold or gold and black?
reason enough to eat filthy nachos
that jinxes the effort
of every single mile run before.

oh well.
at least the weaving lies flat
if my belly doesn't.