Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Poem: Batbeat


There is a whack and a thuck about this place
circular percussion, metal on leather
leather on leather
claws on baked white soil
scratch yourself a symphony and beware the bad hop

The men in fashion glasses don’t understand
the game is cloth on dirt
no Fred Astairing into third but a
decrescendo sled across the gravel
one hand cupping the perfect white corner

There is nothing more oddly beautiful than the smile
of an umpire
no point more tenderly treacherous
than the turn in a double play
hack yourself a concerto and beware the mute outfielder.

First published in Yarrow
From the collection Great Showtunes of the American Stage  
Photo by MJV

No comments: