“Fastball,” by Dwayne Brenna

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.



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