the numbers on their backs

the numbers on their backs

 

 

 

home plate,

of boned china...

who's safe there?

we throw arms at each other

not around,

 

the umpire is a grizzled veteran

wants to give the peace signal

but the right arm goes up with the out call

just before it gets blown off

 

by a detonated feeling

that this game can never be settled

no one will be carried off the field of life

in victory,

instead the dead 

are whisked away

 

and we stare down at our programs

pretending to care who the players are

or more importantly, 

 

were.

 

 

before the dishes shatter

and we have to eat off paper plates

with sad headlines.

 

 

 

erin-cilberto

7/4/16

Reviews

[Kirsty Woodward]

Great piece, Jacob.

"we throw arms at each other
not around,"

Perfect.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Kirsty,

j.

[W.k.kortas]

cf. Ben Folds' "Selfless, Cold and Composed"--"And all the dishes intact/let them be broken, broken". The inventiveness of intermingling the Great American Game and the classic notion of throwing the dishes is done in a virtuoso manner, even by your standards. Marvelous stuff.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your very kind review, W.k...
j.

[Lyn Anderson]

Umpires are in charge now. It makes for a very unbalanced game.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

so true, thank you, KL...

j.

[Lydia Shutter]

WOW...not sure where to start with this one. First stanza I thought we were talking about a couple fighting, but then I started to think it was about apathy for what is happening in our world today. We see so much on the news that we become hardened. Life goes on, but we are not the same. The baseball metaphor was good. Still not 100% sure what this one is about, but I enjoyed the read. Lydi**

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind review, Lydi...

j.