letra de elegy for gump worsley - weakerthans
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he looked more like our fathers
not a goalie, player, athlete period
smoke, half-ash, stuck in that permanent smirk.
tugging jersey around the beer gut
“i’m strictly a whiskey man”
was one of the sticks he taped up
and gave to a nation of pudgy boys
favorites from plympton’s list of
objects thrown by rangers fans:
soup cans, persimmon, eggs, a folding chair and a dead rabbit
the nervous breakdown of 68 and 69
after pan cr-p flights from la, the expansion
a shrink told me to change occupations, i had to forget it
he swore he was never afraid of the puck; we believe him
if anyone asks, the inscription should read
“my face was my mask.”
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