Baseball


That’s a man who knows how much a baseball means.

The dirt in the grooves all caked in like tiny mesas

on white plains. An old man who caught a foul ball

now feeling it between his fingers thinking about men

on the field with bodies stronger and faster than most 

of the world. The same ball that touched the very ground 

not ten seconds before and held by a millionaire. 

That’s a man who knows how much a baseball means. 

The great American past time now decried as a dying sport 

just like the failing empire destined to fall. 

To watch baseball is to watch America’s demise. 

No time. Just space. And dirt destroying everything.

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