Emma Watson

Poem

I tried to make a joke about Emma Watson
walking into a bar in Mobile, Alabama
as “Mississippi Queen” started playing
at a deafening level, even for hunters
use to shotguns going off three inches from their heads,
but it had a clear racist bouquet to it,
like Mulder would say with a neon smirk,
so I hung the bad humor up
and just went back to my quantum soccer strategy,
which had a chance in the rain
with favelas jumping on concrete bleachers
wearing Mr. Bubble t-shirts from the previous ad campaign.