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The Prophets of the Crabtree

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 What marker can we place
at the limits of this day?
Whose anti-face or sterile glance
will transmute the fourth official’s
only chance at peace
to futile bargaining?

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Which water bottles will survive
the marginal offside?
Will a fan be invited to the bench
if you know so much my son?

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 Where in England can you find
the gentlemen of the dugouts,
the buddhas of the sidelines?

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 There would be no ‘credit to the lads’
because it’s no meritocratic team talk
life when you’re present
in the moment with your substitutes,
when enlightened wingers just sit down,
when full-backs stand aside.

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 We sing to the boardroom a call
and response, see a mirage
of empty stands in the mind’s
sponsorship. No Cellnet, Sports
Direct, Betting Power or Kit-Kat
Crescent, no Tigers or Dragons
in dumb assent. And to be fair
they fought them off, snapped the wafer
like a communion incensed.

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 What marker can we place
at the limits of this day?
Which dividend of life lived
will be most lucrative
when across the technical area,
the windows of the corporate suites,
the clanging cymbal of the programme
notes heritage-campaign, fans say ‘No,
not today. Take your flashy cars
from the locked school car-park,
let the locals now come through,
the ones from the estates and parks
not the hot-housed precious few.’

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Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/the-prophets-of-the-crabtree/