who won? I said

The game’s still on, they said.

And I became the ghost I always was

drifting between channels in my unease.

But I’d given it my all,

while the broadcasts flickered on their way

to commercial breaks, when I overheard

I was counting bodies beneath concrete slabs

to make sense of numbers on my screen when a child

disappeared into rubble in Gaza

and I felt such shame over the practiced

normalcy of my Sunday

I was not watching,

for I can pretend interest

in the spectacle, just as they

in the great loud stadium

must forget.

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