Wednesday, August 27, 2014

poem of the day 08.27.14

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

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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