Sunday, October 07, 2012

Box Core

Way up on the third deck
the strikes and balls
are a just a flip
of your emotional coin,
and the money
is miraculous music
jangling all around
like clouds
of mango butter
as the big league batter
dismisses the clatter
and focuses in
on the matter
at hand ...

A tip of the Saint Louis hat:
"A Cardinals fan?" ...
No, not even a fan,
don't even care
about the strangeness
of wings, the meaning
of things, nor the easy
stream of this here requiem,
just my zen baseball box score,
just my need to make
a connection above the war

Curt Schilling's bloody sock
goes up for sale
as his Titanic sinks
into a laundry pile
that hasn't been washed
since two-thousand and four
and now it's dirtier
than nine presidential campaigns

Bobby Valentine's February promises
are set ablaze by a fireball of Yankee
down and outers, up and comers
who have returned in October
in a snail mail of Saturn rings ...

I just can't think
of every thing

Wednesday, May 02, 2012

Baseball on the Radio

Baseball on the Radio 

Who needs the video
 when nobody is talking slow 
and every sound is set to fastball? 
Pitcher to catcher, who burns it right back
and Willie is trampling on the warning track
 Baseball on the radio is just awe right! 

Baseball on the radio 
Baseball on the radio
 Thank Oz there's no video 
Baseball on the radio 

Good zip in the mind's eye 
try and add some tilt to it 
Feelin' all the relaxed "out there," 
wiggle the glove, 
a foul to the warning wall 

Hear the fear, the chin music
 from here, the dog daze,
 well, well, well, into the Fall, spastic

 Buy a beer, but watch out
 for whom you cheer
 as you take in
 the percolatin' commerce
 of the Prostate Pledge

 Warning wall, warning wall
 from here, the dog daze to the Fall
 to where there's no decent thing
 to hear at all 

Baseball on the radio 
Baseball on the radio 
Thank God there's 
nowhere to plug 
in a TV show 
Baseball on the radio