GRAND SLAM NIGHT
A.D. Winans

the lights are hot
the sweat beads bathe his face
like a lizard tongue

the crowd is on its feet
screaming dancing whistling
stomping their feet
to the piped in music
of a marching band

he's making love to the mike
his words are rolling thunder
lightning bolts appear from the
cracks in the ceiling

the book pages are burning
in his hands
the crowd is up on its feet
begging for more

he's running down the aisle
reciting the ten commandments
backwards

he's back on stage doing acrobatics
the audience is spellbound
the judges are frantically writing
down their scores

he's doing jumping jacks
he's standing on his head
he's trying to raise the dead

he's brought in the pope
they're doing a duet
the guy waiting his turn
looks white as a ghost