The Bronze Medal

All night long the hockey pictures
gaze down at you
sleeping in your tracksuit.
Belligerent goalies are your ideal.
Threats of being traded
cuts and wounds
—all this pleases you.
O my god! you say at breakfast
reading the sports page over the Alpen
as another player breaks his ankle
or assaults the coach.

When I thought of daughters
I wasn’t expecting this
but I like this more.

— Michael Ondaatje

1. heylabodega said: Ondaatje. God, he’s amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever read any of his work—either poetry or prose—and not been flat knocked out by his imagery.
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