poem of the day 10.16.15

the boys

the mets

have won something

not everything

but to fandom they’ve won

and this morning

i think about the boys in rooney’s pub

their frayed mets caps

drunk shouting at another loss on the tv

beer bellies in orange and blue t-shirts

the diehards the lovable losers

in the city that never sleeps

the second class kids

whose women were fucking their friends

behind their backs

using pocket change for another short beer

because they’d been stool-side since nine in the morning

screaming at the poor

unfortunate soul on the mound

in classic and current games

spilling whiskey

fist raised at a 52-inch

giving legends mex and darling the business

romancing 1986 mookie and buckner

that cocky team that used to menace my pirates

back in pittsburgh

benny and ivan talking 1969

like it would never get that good again

carter and straw and doc and the not-so-new kid wright

clendenon and hodges and seaver

and tug and piazza and koosman

a mix of history and names over the decades

golden ghosts over the dusty bar

giving hope to the hopeless sports fan

and this morning

now they have it

those old drunks from long-gone rooney’s pub

waking into hangover bliss

a new strut in their liquid steps

to wherever you’re hanging your sorrows

now my boys

for the millionaire kids playing upon your memories

here today

please lift your aching heads.