When you bounded into the pitcher’s arms It now seems too obvious an ascension Of a man who brushed his burst fingers Against the endurable Only when he was ashamed. In the beery afterglow Your words were as pat as … Continue reading For Darrell Porter

He pitched as though he were Throwing fallen apples at a knothole. Then again, he threw fallen apples at a knothole As though he were Throwing fallen apples at a knothole. For there is no mystery in the literal, no … Continue reading Rube Waddell Is Dying

In these distant perches, This tent revival of Oakland pigeons, Cheap of the dollar, rich of the possible, We are ransacking whatever we have Forgotten beneath our larval tongues. Do they not realize that baseball is going on? Sir, does … Continue reading To a photo of two people making out in the upper deck at the 1972 World Series

I’m telling you, Simmons, those days! Your tresses plunged like the Bellwether stocks of the times. Like the necklines of those Who tottered for your notice. We shan’t survive these times, said wartime leaders! We shan’t survive Ted Simmons And … Continue reading Several exclamations regarding Ted Simmons

Let us throw up at a ballgame, you and me. Collars high, gents! Wangs paraded, cavaliers! Our testicles are covered by moss and lichen. This is because they are boulders. So let us throw up at a ballgame, you and … Continue reading Let us throw up at a ballgame

1. In love poems we talk about eye color. Your eyes are the color of The virginity that Brooke Shields just lost And the luxury Oldsmobile she’ll Give birth to nine months hence. In benedictions we ask the firmament For … Continue reading To a photograph in which Dave Parker is baseball in the 1970s made flesh