The Losers

Jameson Keebler

Everyone says that when they meet my dad I make more sense

He is funny to a fault

I laugh at bad times 

He send me pictures of the radio when our song comes on

He calls me during hockey games

He gives a play by play 

But he is never near the ice

The flyers have a shot at playoffs

But even when they don’t win

we pay to watch

And contest the score

But we know what comes next

And we sit until the screen goes black

I am my father’s daughter so I have faith

In the underdog

My father taught me how to write a eulogy

The mix of funny and sad

He learned it from his sister

When the house filled with the scent of death

We drove to get pizza in the snow

And talked about the score

I bet on the losers

It’s not my fault