Short Crackerjacks Poems

take me
out to the
ball game

take me
just take me
even in a crowd

i don't
care if
they 

never
get
back...

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Daddy, please take me out to the ball game
running the bleachers, enjoying the fame 
buy me some warm peanuts and crackerjacks
let the ball fly to the outfield with a whack!

Daddy, can I go play with my friends in the field?
There are lightning bugs, and they easily yield.
I want to chase and run and twirl and spin.
I don't care about baseball, the sport or the win!...

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Mind in the fetal position contemplating
Rosicrucian Cosmo Conception-Theory
seen on the back of a crackerjacks box
with no prize inside.

all they offered was to arrange
a meeting of the minds
so i went, 
and you stayed back with Thomas.

So there i stood, lying down,
asleep, counting sheep,
that were wide awake.

Belly buttons of giants
full of lint-
traps snaring, finger prods
along the shores of the mind....

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The crack of the bat
  but no crackerjacks
The game we held dear
  without a beer or a cheer

The ball sails into the stands
  where it's empty of fans
Radios pick up the players talk
  and their cleats as they walk

The 'boys in the booth'
  may not be long in the tooth
Yet once-exciting plays
  just don't thrill or amaze

"The runner slides into home!" --
  where we watch all alone
Sigh... The 'old ball game'
  ~ is just not the same...

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