Johnny Manziel Flicks Off the Washington Bench


Light the Terminal Tower in the colors
of Johnny Manziel’s middle finger. Let fly

that fuck you phalange; may it soar to heaven.
Forget Lebron, Johnny’s bird alone can save us.

Johnny’s finger for Super Bowl MVP.
Johnny’s finger for City Council. For Mayor.

Johnny, we believe in you and we believe
in your avian salute. Let that defiant digit lift

this city for once and for fucking all. Extinguish
the Cuyahoga by waving a single metacarpal.

Let that Aggie finger eclipse the sun and cast its long
shadow over the flats, the innerbelt, the steel mills,

the lonely lakeshore. May it block Dan Snyder’s leering
view of the white girl in cutoffs and a feathered headdress.



Photo: Johnny Manziel by Erik Drost

About Author

Danny Caine's poems have appeared in Midwestern Gothic, Hobart, New Ohio Review, and other places. He's a regular book reviewer for The Los Angeles Review and he's co-editor of Beecher's Magazine. Hailing from Cleveland, he now lives in Lawrence, Kansas where he works at the Raven Bookstore. More information at

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