This poem was Spitball Magazine‘s Baseball Poem of the Month this past April. I fell in love with it right from the first line.
*
Fastball
sniper fire
from the un-grassy knoll
cocaine high
you see in living colour after that
pure white smoke
and bee bee at the knees
arrives like a punch in the face
or a pail of cold water
and hops and sometimes drops
and sometimes disappers
(ask any ump)
and thwack goes the mitt
a foley artist couldn’t make that sound
statement of unbending bluntness
black and white
and no detente
you on that side
me on this
and hit it if you can
~Dwayne Brenna
