home run
some of the boys at the bus stop
got it around that tonya
liked to pleasure herself with a baseball bat
they all claimed to have seen it
but none of them could give the where and when
and even though these cats
were a rather dubious lot of chain smoking mama’s boys
a lot of the other kids still believed them
as is typical many of the girls shunned tonya
they called her a dyke because they were jealous
the boys made sure to taunt her pretty good about it
they spoke in baseball metaphors
strikeouts and getting to second base
i didn’t know what to think
i think i was concerned about my future success
with women
i knew what i had
i saw my disappointment in the shower
when getting dressed in front of a mirror
it wasn’t at all as big as a baseball bat at either end
and if that’s what it took to pleasure
a fifteen year-old girl
well….
but we never got any real confirmation on tonya
she didn’t come back for sophomore year
all the boys at the bus stop had moved on anyway
to other tits and asses
the logistics of their own sad, sexual situations
they stood around and smoked cigarettes
they all claimed to hit home runs with a lot of girls
that summer i played baseball
but every time i came to bat
i couldn’t help but think about tonya
alone in her room with a brand new louisville slugger
my own cheap and juvenile loneliness
the scabs on my cock
from masturbating too much
i let each pitch go by me
strike one
strike two
strike three
then i took my place on the bench
to the boos from boys on my own team
angry, frustrated twerps with sour faces and potato chip
breath
who called me a switch hitter
who swore up and down that with the way i hit
i must be playing for the wrong team
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