The Tournies

He used to go bowling.
Pressed league jerseys
neatly folded in his man bags
quietly awaited his various journeys.
Had they only known their fate.
 
She would get so hungry
while he was gone.
The freezer of fillets only
lasted so long,
before it was time
for another tournament
that didn’t exactly include him.
 
He used every trick in the book.
“I’ve got some puppies, want to take a look?”
 
Sometimes, it was sugary sweets.
 
“You like pixie sticks? I’ve got a box of them you can eat.”
 
She liked her fillets nice and young.
The fatter the better,
it made for tender chewing.
The lean ones, of course,
made for better stewing.
 
He used to go bowling.
But, he never rented shoes,
and he never ever paid his league dues.
He didn’t have to.
Four states away,
and they never watched the news
while they ate their dinner.