by Casey Hannan
At a baseball game, so high up
the birds seem bigger than the players,
bigger than the crowned lion mascot,
and bigger even, than my expectations,
because, you see, I didn’t root, root, root,
for anyone. The Royals sucked and the
Rangers were visitors, so it was
heresy to cheer when they won, which
I think they did, though it’s hard to
remember when all I see, looking back
through the heat, hazy like it is in a
too hot car, is a crowd of people all
trying not to fling themselves onto
the field, so green you could swim
in it, to cool down to the most basic
part of the experience: American History
and the obligation spun from those pages.
For more of Casey’s poetry, check out his blog, Poetry, DUH.
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Posted 8/4/2009