Queens

by Jeffrey Felshman

Why should I care what happens in Queens?
What happens in Queens should stay in Queens.
I like the isle of Manhattan (you know I do),
a borough that’s lost three baseball teams.
The Mets played there for a year or two,
but then the team moved to Queens –
a place you pass through
to a place you’d rather be.

So why should I care about a team from Queens?

In Queens: travelers are served by two airports
In Queens: commuters choose subways or els
In Queens: drivers grit their teeth on the BQE
In Queens: drivers spit their bile on the LIE

Also:

In Queens: big business held a World’s Fair.
In Queens: baseball hosted three World Series.
In Queens: the locals speak of miracles.
In Queens: it’s a miracle anyone lives
in Queens.

But

When I was a kid
waiting for the train
outside Shea Stadium,
After a two-hit gem by Tom Seaver,
Backed with four hits by Cleon Jones,
A hard slide by Bud Harrelson,
A sliding catch by Tommie Agee,
Any catch by Ron Swoboda,
A clutch ribby by Art Shamsky,
then Ron Taylor in relief,

Then I didn’t want to leave
Queens.

Published 6/10/09

1957

by Doug Fahrendorff

Milwaukee seemed near that summer
Earl Gillespie and
Blaine Walsh
Brought us the excitement
As the Braves
Battled for the pennant
The radio our ticket
To County Stadium
Aaron and Matthews
Spahn and Burdette
A World Series win
Over the hated Yankees
Celebrate Wisconsin!

Posted 6/9/2009

Naked Citi

by Jeffrey Felshman

The first fan on Citi Field
ran first to second base,
was taken down in center field,
and hustled out of the place.

With a stuffed and fuzzy monkey
placed over his manly jewels,
preventing unwanted scrutiny,
he was nearly but  not totally nude.

This was five years in planning, he’d said,
and in the top of the fifth, he’d stripped.
To seize his moment in history, he’d meant,
and from his front row seat, he’d leapt.

But history ain’t what it used to be,
and streaking into this category fits.
Historically speaking, streakers
strip down to the last of their bits.

This one couldn’t bear to be bare,
he couldn’t go all the way.
His plan wasn’t all the way there,
his triumph a partial display.

Now, history isn’t written by the winners,
it’s digitally uploaded by upstarts,
chronicling a continual parade
of missing and lesser parts.

.

Posted 5/18/09

Vaya Con Dios, Bazardo

by James Finn Garner

Bazardo, Bazardo, Bazardo, Bazardo,
Batters with hits your field did bombard-o,
Yorman, my man, hits the boulevard-o,
Cut by the Phils with flip disregard-o.

Bazardo, Bazardo, Bazardo, Bazardo,
Though scratched from the Tigers’ and Phillies’ scorecard-o,
I hope you retain your own self-regard-o
And don’t mope and think you’re somehow ill-starred-o,
Or drown your sorrows in amontillado,
Or vanish from sight, incommunicado.

Bazardo, Bazardo, Bazardo, Bazardo,
While no setback leaves a person unscarred-o,
Don’t think yourself with failure much tarred-o,
Or believe that old “washed up” canard-o,
Because at least to the baseball ‘ficionado,
You gave us the chance to holler

“BAZARDO!”

For an earlier poem about Yorman Bazardo, click here.

.

Posted 4/30/09