The wide receiver who plays for New York,
Whose team actually plays in New Jersey,
Accidentally shot himself at 1 a.m.
In the nightclub.
You know,
The one who made that catch as if
Every muscle and nerve in his taut body
Had been preparing for that Superbowl moment
Ever since he left the inner city.
You know,
The one with the cool nickname
That bestows him an All-Pro cog
In an I-formation constellation.
Why can’t teachers be christened slick monikers?
We sweat too.
Like Lightnin’, or Bolt.
I’d want to be called… Rainmaker.
“Rainmaker. Are we gonna’ write an essay today,
Because I hate essays.”
“Rainmaker. My mom wants to have a parent conference with you,
Because she wants to know why you’re failing me.”
“Rainmaker… You’re my favorite teacher.”
The judge gave him a minimum of twenty months
For shooting himself in the thigh,
While Buckner got twenty years
For shooting himself in the foot,
Failing to get down far enough on the
Slow roller to first.
“Rainmaker. Who’s Buckner?”
