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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required AntiPoem 31 “Rita Montero” (Poet’s instruction: Kindly play “Ay, Mama Inez” by Rita Montero while reading this AntiPoem) a red trolley finds Ebbets Field behind a pigtown ditch significant hotdogs and burnt singles melt into the pitch Jackie Robinson squares off with an ash tree riding the sky the flag of our fathers dancing in center field poised to fly “honey, I hope you like these seats here in the bleachers you can see Bedford on the phone looking for preachers an endless parade of white-walled tires scurrying on by can you smell the Nathan’s dogs downstairs on hot rye let us hurry hence dear, before this inning comes to an end and our Jackie Robinson comes barreling up to bat again” “Una mujer negra se asoma en el teatro de Buenos Aires” Argentine goddess with roots in the dark seeping prairies musically squeezes the brass ring as the black cloud dries “Rita Montero, you are as lovely as your sweet empanada pies your wonderful sidewalks through gardens of lapacho trumpets please come sit with me here, to talk and to eat these crumpets to speak of your forever glissandos and sad asado whispers your electric shadows finding humble graces at vespers retrieving lost spaces from opera teachers and stupid men to step forward again with singing eyes and a ballpoint pen Rompiste la puerta blanca maloliente!” please Rita meet me in Córdoba next wednesday” she sits in her bleacher seat with a Nathan’s dog on hot rye “honey, I hope we can see Jackie Robinson hit a deep fly high up into the airy Brooklyn blue arching yet over Bedford the democrats in section seven will applaud the proud leopard Rita Montero, I can see her in the grandstand behind Shotton she is giving absolution for all the skin sins now long forgotten let us hurry hence dear, before this inning comes to an end and our Jackie Robinson comes barreling up to bat again”
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