Long Wrigley Poems

BLINDING FLASHES FROM MY EYE SOCKET BEING CRUSHED MY NASAL ARCH NOSE FRACTURE RHINOPLASTY SURGERY HELPS WITH MY AIRWAYS THE SEVERE TRAUMA ON IMPACT SEVERE CAR ACCIDENT TWO MEN ON A LADDER ADJUSTING THE STREET...

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"The Crow Bar"

she said,
here I bury my dead,
you can hear them sleeping
somnulent forget-me-nots,
snoring blithely unaware,
in neat rows between 
the thick,
ink injected lines,
their soiled lives
ploughed and 
turned over 
replanted
sunnyside down
expunged and 
wrung out

eventually,
not totally oblivious, 
they...

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Pittsburgh, hammertown, Chuck Knoll and his boys
established the best Superbowl Era dynasty
with the "Steel Curtain" defense and the "Blonde Bomber" Bradshaw,
a defense disciplined on shrapnel and elite ego,
"Mean Joe Greene" and Jack Lambert, a compulsive...

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I recall it, and my eyes pump water from deep within my soul;                      ...

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During the time before television came to our home,                          ...

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Memories
 become sand full of hourglasses. 
One thousand snowflakes are one thousand dead cats in the Hudson River.
 Memories hurt. 
They are Michael Schofield broken out of prison. 
Prison is the look on your father’s...

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I’ve a vast store of mem’ries about Chicago
as I’ve lived there for a couple of years
helping out in the parish of many immigrants,
especially Mexicans and Puerto Ricans.

I’ve made friends and a number of them
still continue...

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Northside of Chi-Town is full of emotion.
In the ‘45 Series Cubs and Tigers are battling.
Sianis buys two tickets to show his devotion.
Is booted ‘cause his billy goat won’t stop bahbling.
He curses the Cubbies and causes...

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In 1967, fresh out of high school at seventeen, I boarded a northbound bus to the metropolis of the mid-west. After arriving in Chicago, while waiting to be picked up by a family member, I...

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My Dearest Colorful Queen,

     Thirty seven colors in one tail feather
The most beautiful Peacock ever
That's 
           what 
   ...

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

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Going to the ballpark with someone you met...
               Or just planning to watch on TV?

      ...

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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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You can spend nine years in Chicago and not see everything.
I know this because I spent nine years in Chicago, I doubt if I saw half of it.
Do not miss the Navy Pier, the Magnificent...

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Dirty martinis and Cuban cigars
Fishnet  stockings on hookers Playing my guitar.
Long days at the beach
Women without wedding rings 
Making a list of my favorite things


Sex before Breakfast 
Out running the cops
A judge that grants...

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My Little Green Propelling Pencil.

I was only a child when you were given to me,
By the then, Chairman of Nottingham Forest, When he came round for a cup of tea.
Harold Wrigley Alcock was his name.
Nottingham...

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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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As a baseball fan in the Windy City,
one had to tolerate a lot of mediocrity.
If you followed the Cubs, you deserved a lot of pity.
What kind of baseball team were the Chicago Cubs?
Each season was...

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I want to go to Wrigley Field
Stand behind home plate
And point my finger at the left field wall

I do it to remember baseball
What it used to be
Simple
Pure
Dirt
Muscle
And spit

It used to be you could go to...

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(Poetry) let it thicken as it stands.

Let it be beautiful, unharnessed verbal rage or 
song or deed, or graven image set in stone, where 
walls fell around some demagouge in 
some ill-remembered time. 

$IN

In our...

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You must be from Chicago, you football bears
I used to live there, they made the best chairs
Wrigley Field was way back against my lairs
They had the tastiest foods at their carnival fairs

You bears probably date...

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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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My room at the Hyatt 
Smelled like my ex-wife
She didn't have oodles of class
Or wasn't overly fancy
So, it must be that aroma of 
Almost masking what had
Taken place the night before
We greeted each other with
A...

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"the fighting act is the final act"


Buzz Lightyear under the elephant.
the bear on an air mattress.
Gould locked in a rectangular box.
the young man behind the old man.

what they try to kill.

those addicted to the crowd...

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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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