Winter Wednesday
A Chicago Bulls love poem from a winter diehard
Published in
Nov 16, 2021
I looked forward to warming
up a chicken pot pie, sinking low
in my chair, and falling asleep
to the fading ticks of a Bulls’ third
quarter. Lauri misses another three
and Zach bangs his beautiful
head on his palm in frustration,
leading a comeback no one
will believe in. It’s easy
to love someone who isn’t going
anywhere. Now I stand in
front of the TV watching Zo
sling it faster than Arenado,
and wait until halftime to pee.
