POEM - The Game is called P-I-G

The kids run around the court

Getting sweaty

Sliding along the polished wood floor

Playing a variety of games

All simultaneously

Something that is sometimes soccer

Sometimes dodge ball

And more often keep away

I shoot a few baskets

Make them pretty easy

So I think it is finally time

I’m going to challenge you

My nemesis of the court

The queen of basketball

I am so on today!

Up for a quick game of PIG?

            Sure

            If it will get us out of here

I’ll start

So she starts

Does the shots she likes

Up close

Almost under the net

But I have her number on this

I’ve learned how to make these

Consistently

After something like 25 years

And her technique gains no purchase

Next she tries from about three-quarters of a free throw

It clangs the rim

Bounces off

I gain the advantage

And I capitalize

Far right of the free throw line

Sweet shot

Mostly net

She shoots for a try and a miss

“P!”

Next a free throw

“I!”

But I get cocky

Try a backwards free throw

A baseline jumper

A big hook shoot

All of them miss

And she takes advantage

Subtly and skillfully

In short order I get P-I-G

And I lose again

For the few hundredth time

I think she cheated

Her cuteness distracts me

My killer instinct dissipates

But really

The honest truth

She can shoot

Has discipline and skills

A kind heart

            And a killer game

That she reigns down

            On this porcine challenger