by Ember Nickel
Precariously perched between the spring
Of simple fantasies and the real thing
Becoming more peerless with every day–
Can I criticize an excuse to play?
I watched it on the computer, full-screen.
The scoreboards I’ve seen look much like this. Bright
Garish ads with limitless width and height.
The game filled the screen, and usually worked.
But sometimes it jerked and blurred, like it had
Been magnified too far, like that was bad.
Four-four in the fourth inning. Fours could not
Be wild, I’d thought. Too big for the game
They might repeat–but it is not the same.
A former contributor to Baseball Toaster, Ember’s blog is Lipogram! Scorecard!, where this poem first appeared.
Published in Ballparks, History, Lyric, New York Yankees | Link to this poem | 1 Comment