Long Bleacher Poems

Rejection Slips 2

The Shape of Mourning
by Michael R. Burch
 
The shape of mourning
is an oiled creel
shining with unuse,
 
the bolt of cold steel
on a locker
shielding memory,

the monthly penance
of flowers,
the annual wake,
 
the face in the...

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Nucleotidings
by Michael R. Burch

“We will walk taller!” said Gupta,
sorta abrupta,
hand-in-hand with his mom,
eyeing the A-bomb.

“Who needs a mahatma
in the aftermath of NAFTA?
Now, that was a disaster,”
cried glib Punjab.

“After Y2k,
time will spin out of control anyway,”
flamed...

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Inevitable death defines afterlife

I mull mortality 
thru lens crafted occipital orbs
regarding a better future
experience sing a space oddity – 
whar incessant yaks
exuding a big hurt
emanate as cosmic atomic 
bipedal hominids replete roof lee wax
during a...

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Cycles
by Michael R. Burch

I see his eyes caress my daughter's breasts
through her thin cotton dress,
and how an indiscreet strap of her white bra
holds his bald fingers
in fumbling mammalian awe...

And I remember long cycles into the...

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My inspiration She is born, 
And with a brush of my thumb,
I can feel all her bones, 
I hesitate to hold her at first,
So small--but fills me with enough to burst,
Makes me swear to never...

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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...

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"Ennui Sets In”

Whenever pen is placed
Between purloined phalanges,
When my mind unfolds and tears along the seams,
I know it’s time to move my thoughts,
Through the underground;
That dark crusty void
Of dreary dreams diminished,
Where loose hell raisers floss...

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Sloths, the slowest creature
slowest mind
slowest feature
as you sit upon that bleacher
waiting for a simple teacher
you feel something is missing 
yet nothing is missing
you want something to be missing 
to find something fitting 
this is like...

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Mr. Cub, take me out to the ballgame! 
 
                         ...

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The man(Agape) teaches the  woman(mind)(symbolic meaning)
What wisdom teaches is knowledge
Wisdom is taught from the heart to the mind
Wisdom of Agape teaches sound knowledge to the mind

The soul is male
The derivative mind is female
You are...

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What are the characteristics of a teacher? 
Always, this question, I hear. 
There are teachers out there more interesting than a bleacher. 
I wanna be a teacher that treats students like a dear. 

I remember...

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To be a Cubs fan is to be
the audience of a Greek Tragedy
Sweet is the pain as we pay admission 
To bow down in October submission
Leaving bitter taste through the winter
Clinging to the lofty dreams...

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I bring hit after hit like a boxer
You haters' inconsistent
Everybody's on the same vibe
Mine's kinda' different
Verse hot, hook hot--
I'm gon' sellout soon as I drop
Verse hot, hook hot--
I'm gon' sellout soon as I drop

Minor in...

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My mother (a bleacher of bloodstained sheets)
bleaches my dreams the color of bones,
and feeds me on snakes and dirty slate stones.
She winces each time I walk through the door,
a mere apparition (though we’ve done this...

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Beyond the invincible Death,
Past the infectious Icons,
The ever-winding spatial staircase,
And the crack between Time and Space,
Lies the unconscious mind, the ethereal plane, and the land of the lost.
I have traveled miles to be here,
And there...

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Out to the bleacher
We were drawn
By sun burning down,
Melting stubborn
White snow mounds,
While the girls
Still with wintry-pale legs
Trotted the bases
Or lowered to grateful grass
In the broad outfield
And stretched calves out
With spread lean thighs
We somehow knew
Would one...

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I dreamt I said, ‘Hullo, Fellow’ on her pink plumage pillow
When from my blue sky grew and flew a sentimental swallow
That told me to fold my arms and grow calm because it didn’t matter anymore
As...

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A Chicago Cubs-Fan Prayer Answered! 

In nomine patri et fili spiritu of Ron Santo!
Let us all give thanks for Ernie Banks! 

Let us play........, two! 

Our Father, who art in Wrigley Field
Hallowed be thy ivy...

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Written April 14, 2017


It's easy to fall in love
Even easier to break apart
I've been trying for six long years
To mend this broken heart

You used to talk to me so sweet
My biggest fan in the bleacher...

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A Chicago Cubs-Fan Prayer!
 In nomine patri et fili spiritu of Ron Santo
 Let us all give thanks for Ernie Banks
              ...

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Why is Catrina so fake?
She is like a snake. 
She attracts all men,
Especially ken. 

Why is Catrina made of plastic?
Her personality isn’t fantastic. 
She has more than one friend,
But by next year, it will end....

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Round Mudville Market, foul air was omnipresent
butchers rent fowls’ necks to make tenant's rent, 
the scene that was seen was most unpleasant.

As sunset fell, we watched through evening light, 
as Casey mighty Casey held his...

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The smell of hot dogs, fresh grass, and stale beer
A constant dull drone from the Bleacher Bums
“Take Me out to the Ball Game”, sung aloud
Infield raking dust, by busy grounds crews

Seventh inning stretch at old...

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When the world was small
my heroes were big
living on a 12’’ screen
the telephone operator knew me by name
when the party line was open and free
on Tuesdays it was the bread man
on Wednesdays came meat
Friday mornings...

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The space between what could have been
And the place he is living now. 
Started out as a tiny path
Became a major road somehow. 

At seventeen the dream was real
There was a contract in the cards
Quarterback...

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