Eleven O'Clock Penalty Flags

It is eleven o'clock

And I sit in my room

In front of a computer

And wait for a video to load

It is eleven o'clock

And in the football field

Across from my room

(and five stories down)

Groups of people

Throw penalty flags

At no one at all

Three large groups of people

At eleven o'clock

Decided this evening

That they should go down

To the football field

Across from my room

Turn on the lights

And throw penalty flags

There are no footballs

There are no frisbees

No soccer

No lacrosse

No baseball bat swinging

Just three groups of people

At eleven o'clock

Throwing an oddly large number

Of penalty flags

Sometimes to each other

Sometimes in the air

Sometimes they even run as they throw them

But none of this changes

That all they are doing

Is throwing penalty flags

At eleven o'clock

Without any players

To make penalties

And I sit in my room

And look at the field

That is five stories down

And I laugh at them

While my video loads

And I call them weird.

I think maybe my priorities are out of order.

Written by David Briggs, 2012.  Edited from an earlier draft published in The Catalyst Online Vol. 5 (The Catalyst Literary Magazine Vol. 35 Issue 1)