The Packers Fleece

The Packers Fleece
Jessica Marie

As I look up to the ivory ceiling
while steam gathers around me—
I feel this sense of ambivalence
of that fateful November night,
so hazy to the mind that I can’t
remember if it was cold, but it must
because in the last moment of consciousness,
this is where the dread fills me;
“Oh the Packers! Such a stupid jacket!
I should hate you! I should leave you here,
leave you here to rot in this bar,
the Seahawks, man, they’re my team!
You’re just an idiot!” I look down at my
beautiful Packers fleece, an emerald green
and I take the last shot of Fireball and one of Jack,
before I make the phone call,
at least I thought I called;
not sure if it’s cold, but I don’t realize
the confusion of what just happened,
why he got so mad at me and starting screaming
and dragging me, I didn’t mean this, I didn’t want this.
Yet, in this sadness, here I am three months later,
but, there are truly amazing stories
of strength from Coleman, Sherman and Wilson,
yet in this moment of ambivalence,
I want to cry, I want to be happy for the legally deaf Coleman,
but this bad memory and feeling flood me as they lift the Lombardi,
I wonder what he, that monster, is doing for the Super Bowl.