(10.09.2015 No.139 —

By Steve Hermanos


It should be a national holiday,

4 playoff games,

Each team remaining is battling;

Well, I’ll morph it into my own holiday,

Turning up the Jacuzzi dial,

Moving all my work to next week,

Cabling the flat screen to the nearest tree,

And it’ll be:

9:30 a.m., Rangers Vs. Blue Jays,

12:30 p.m., Astros Vs. Royals,

3:30 p.m., Cubs Vs. Cardinals,

6:30 p.m., Mets Vs. Dodgers;

Yeah—that’s about right;

Cueto and Lackey and de Grom and Kershaw and Lester and Kazmir and Marcus Stroman (Blue Jays),

From Medford, N.Y.,

Who’s gonna shine;


9:30 Bagels,

12:30 Sushi,

3:30 Tea and biscuits,

6:30 Grilled veggie dinner;

Little L.’ll watch some with me,

Maybe Mrs. L. in the hot tub,

The neighbors;

I’ll talk to Kirk in Phoenix,

Text with Adam in Toronto,

And baseball appreciators across the globe;

By 9:30 pm,

The sun having turned half way on its axis,

Zooming through space at 65,000 an hour;

With shriveled skin,

More hair having fallen out,

Full o’ good food,

I’ll think about moving my bones and joints tomorrow,

And thank the baseball Gods right now.

—end of poem

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