Short Ballgames Poems

Excursions, picnics, get-togethers, ballgames
  An exhausted father slumps into his favorite armchair, leans back --
Ah, the pot of gold at the end of ‘his special day’
  
…Dad hobbles outside – bad knees and all – to set up
     the sprinklers and haul in the gear from the van...

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under the dirt, under the grass
     live creatures fantastic we never see
  just as on the ocean bottom
     glide fish we cannot imagine

  to think that in our gut are all sorts
     of bacterium striving for dominance
  and we oblivious, place bets on ballgames
     conniving to hide what we've already consumed...

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If 9 were 6 and 6 were 9,
Everything would be just fine.
Ballgames wouldn't take quite so long,
Fewer clouds needed for a feeling so strong.
The Revolution's number wouldn't be so high,
And we'd sleep a bit deeper after we die.
But cats would have to be more careful,
And rolling dice would be less cheerful.
I suppose it wouldn't be a universal fix,
To make 6 into 9 and 9 into 6....

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A nice, pretty Jewish woman 
told me a while back 
that she thought Basketball was for Black people 
   What she didn't realize is that it used to be called 
"The Jewish Game".  
I passed through a period as a youth when 
   I wanted to become a basketball player
  Well, I am now a poet
Maybe one day I will write a poem 
  about Elgin Baylor or George Mikan 
    Know who they were?  
   They were fine ballplayers 
Memories of ballgames 
  are burned into my consciousness
ONE CAN ALWAYS DREAM!...

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